#the entire group hating on ray is most pleasing

[builtbybrokenbells]

Hate To Love You

Being around him was unbearable. You weren’t sure why he hated you as much as he did, but he ensured that you were aware of it any time he saw you. After one night of taking it too far, the full story finally comes out.

Read part two here

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: just under 6k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex (pls wrap it before you tap it), oral (m!receiving), oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving) dirty talk, hair pulling, slight exhibitionism, sex in a public place (sort of), swearing, insulting, dickhead sam, drinking, bit of a love triangle more so at the end, sorry if i missed any!

smutty enemies to lovers, my weakness. Enjoy! sorry for any grammatical errors, please be kind :) also maybe a part two if anyone is interested?

~

The door to Danny’s apartment flung open, causing a collective whip of heads to turn and look towards it. Sam Kiszka stumbled in, clearly tipsy and looking a bit disheveled. You clenched your jaw at the sight of him, hoping by some power of the gods he wouldn’t show up tonight, although you knew your wish was not likely to come true. He was always around, looming and seeming to want to do whatever he could to ruin your mood.

Music was softly playing through the room, bodies were crowded in every corner, and your drink was quickly reaching the end. As if some higher power was willing you to have a terrible time tonight, Sam’s eyes immediately fell on you. A frown quickly twisted on his lips as he made his way towards you. If you weren’t so scared of looking weak, you would’ve cowered away from him, but you stood your ground. His hand rested on your arm as he leaned in to whisper something to you. “You know, when you’re here, they should really give me a warning before I show up,” he said. You casted your eyes to look at his face. He smelled like booze and cigarettes as if he’d just stumbled out of a dive bar.

“Why is that, Samuel?” You made sure to elongate your words with an annoying drawl, just to piss him off.

“So I can prepare myself for a terrible fucking night.” He let your arm go with a little push, causing you to lose your footing slightly. No more words were shared before he disappeared into the group of people behind you. His cologne lingered in the air for moment, making it harder to forget he had arrived. You brushed the interaction off, knowing that Sam was always going to be the way he was and you couldn’t let it bother you.

As you made your way to the kitchen to pour another drink, you ran into the host of the nights event. “Pipsqueak!” Danny called over to you. You had to laugh at the nickname. He started using it within days of meeting you, just a gentle joke poking fun at your height. Of course he’d thought you were short, most of the time he failed to realize that almost everyone was short compared to him. He wrapped his arms around you, engulfing you in a hug. “What’s your drink of choice?” He asked, motioning to the bottles of liquor displayed on the counter.

“Whatever you’re making me.” You smiled, taking a seat on one of the chairs. Danny was always a ray of sunshine, sober or not. He made everyone’s day better just by existing. He was the first you’d met out of any of the members of Greta Van Fleet. You had been sitting by your lonesome at a bar one night after a final blowout with your shitty ex-boyfriend. You’d found solace in the cheap tequila shots at the nearest dingy bar. He stopped for a drink after a long day at the studio. It was like fate meeting him that night. He was a very attractive guy, but the friendship you’d blossomed with him that day was something you’d been craving since you made your start in the city. Under different circumstances, you may have let him take you home that night.

You were never the best at making friends. Not because you were mean or any other outstanding baggage, but mostly because you were awkward. You’d spent your entire high school career dating the same toxic guy, and moved in with him almost immediately after graduation. There was never much time to make any friends other than him, simply because he wouldn’t allow it. So, the social cues you should have grown into simply passed you by. Danny was like a breath of fresh air, never minding your stuttering or uncertainties with the whole bonding process. He took to you immediately, imploring you to hang out with him and his friends.

That night he listened to your story with no judgement and even offered you somewhere to stay until you’d found your own place. You brushed it off, thanking him, but you already had one lined up. The breakup was long overdue and you were nothing short of a planner, always having an exit strategy. Instead, he came with you as the entourage as you collected your things from your ex’s house. He helped you move in, wanting to get to know you, and ended up wine drunk with you by the end of the night. It was a perfect housewarming activity. Within the next weeks, he’d introduced you to his best friends, who all had the same welcoming personalities. You were finally at peace with a group of people who made you feel like you belonged.

In the beginning, Sam was just as kind and charismatic as Danny was. You had even found yourself falling for him a little bit. But something changed somewhere along the line and you never really knew what it was. One day he’d went over to Danny’s apartment to share a cool bit of music he’d thought up and found you lounging in his kitchen, clearly freshly woken up. You’d stayed over after a night of bar hopping with your new-found best friend. Danny was still asleep as you made breakfast, which wasn’t a rare occurrence. It looked a little domestic to anyone else, but there was no chance of anything more ever happening between the two of you. Simply just two friends who loved spending time together.

Sam was stunned seeing you in that state, stuttering as he greeted you. He didn’t even stay to show Danny what he’d written. He was out of there faster than he’d arrived. The dynamic shifted that day. It started off slow with him being more passive with you, less engaged, but as time went on it had turned into hatred. It was if he couldn’t even stand the thought of being in the same room as you. There was never a reason why, or an explanation of any sort. Things were just different.

“Whatcha thinking about, pip?” Danny asked, mixing a drink for you. Your eyes looked up to meet his, immediately growing a smile on your lips.

“Nothing too interesting,” you replied. He stuck a straw into the solo cup, bringing it up to your lips. You took a sip, swallowing down whatever concoction he’d made for you. You let out a hum of pleasure, nodding your head in appreciation. “That’s so good!” You exclaimed. He laughed at your reaction, setting the cup in front of you. “You know, if the music thing doesn’t work you, you’d make a great bartender.”

“Maybe in twenty years we can open a bar together, like a family restaurant but instead of good food, really strong drinks that will knock you on your ass. Then we can force our kids to take it over when we retire.” He laughed.

“Exactly!” You giggled, grabbing your cup to take another drink. At that moment, someone had bumped into the back of your chair, causing you to spill the liquid all over the front of your dress. “Shit!” You yelled, standing quickly.

“Sorry, didn’t see you there.” The voice sounded from behind you. You gritted your teeth, knowing exactly who it belonged to.

“Fuck you, Sam.” You said, not even having to look at him.

“You wish!” He said, carrying on to whatever he’d been intending to do. Danny gave you a sympathetic look, scrambling for some paper towels. You cleaned yourself off as best you could, anger radiating from you.

“Fucking asshole.” You mumbled, tossing the wet paper into a trash bin.

“Sorry about him,” Danny said, but you stopped him before it went any further.

“Dont,” you stated. “You’re not responsible for him, you don’t have to apologize on his behalf. I’m quite aware of what he’s like by now.” You let out a humourless chuckle.

“I don’t know why he’s like that, though. He loved you when I brought you to meet everyone.” Danny said, clearly not understanding his distaste for you any more than you did. You shrugged.

“Guess it doesn’t really matter why, cause it doesn’t seem like it’s gonna change any time soon.” Danny reached out and placed a large hand on your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He pulled you into his side, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. He knew how much it bothered you.

Eventually you two had parted ways, him getting pulled away by another friend. You found yourself mingling with a small group of people you’d seen around a few times at previous gatherings. Your eyes wandered around the room. Danny had quite a spacious apartment, and somehow always managed to escape a noise complaint. Your gaze fell upon the one person you wanted to avoid all night. He was next to a girl who you’d never seen before, leaning into her and saying something that was causing a blush to rise to her cheeks.

A tinge of jealousy ran through you. You had to shake it off, completely shocked at the emotion. There was no world where you thought you’d find yourself envious of any of the girls Sam found himself wrapped around. You chalked it up to the copious amount of liquor in your system, maybe making your loneliness a bit more evident than it was when you were sober. In truth, you were. You’d never even had a date after your breakup the year prior. At first it was willing, not wanting to end up entangled with another asshole again. Recently, it was more of routine than anything else. You’d grown comfortable with your empty apartment, your own space how you liked it with nobody to disturb the peace. That didn’t mean you weren’t human, though. Everyone craves intimacy by times.

You made your way back over to the seat you’d been in earlier. You wished Danny would come back to mix you another one of the drinks he’d made you. You tried your best, but it was always too strong or way too sweet. You had to laugh at your own alcoholic incompetence. You didn’t start drinking until you were legal age to do so. Maybe it was because you were a bit of a goody-two shoes growing up, or perhaps that you really just didn’t like the taste of it. Either way, you were still trying to find the ropes of mixing your own beverages and always seemed to fail miserably.

You hummed along to the music playing through the speaker, minding your own business. You didn’t feel the need to be constantly conversing at events like this; sometimes, you’d rather sit back and take it all in. As you pulled out your phone to check the time, you felt a body present itself next to you. You looked up to see a guy you’d occasionally seen hanging around with the boys, but you couldn’t place his face to a name. You gave him a smile as he sat down beside you. “Hey, y/n, right?” He asked. You nodded, taking in his features. He was relatively attractive, but not someone you’d seek out intentionally.

“Yeah, that’s me.” You answered.

“I’ve heard lots of great things from Danny, I just thought I’d come over and keep you company. You looked a little lonesome over here by yourself.” He offered a smile, a quite cute one at that.

“I wouldn’t mind that at all.” You shifted to face him so you could get a better look at him. He was tall, but not as tall as Danny or Sam. You still had to look up to meet his eyes. “What’s your name?” You asked, suddenly embarrassed that he knew you but you didn’t know him.

“Oh, I’m Scott.” He said, suddenly reaching his hand out for you to shake it. You took it, letting the touch linger for a moment. “Sorry, I guess we’ve never really properly met each other.” He let out a nervous chuckle.

“We have lots of time, now.” You offered.

You lost yourself in conversation with him, finding out he had quite the sense of humour. You’d found yourself getting tipsier by the minute, losing your rigidness the more the time went on. He had said something particularly funny, causing you to lean into him while you laughed, resting a hand on his shoulder. He took the opportunity to snake an arm around you, and you didn’t mind it in the slightest. In the midst of him beginning to ask you about yourself, a hand presented itself on your shoulder, as well as one on his. You looked back to see Sam looming over you. You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

“Hello, Samuel.” You said, dryly. He ignored you and turned to the boy beside you.

“I see you’ve met y/n!” He boomed. Scott nodded, not sensing the tension in the air.

“Yeah, we were just getting to know each other. She’s great!” Scott replied. Sam gave a laugh, nodding as if to agree.

“She sure is, but be careful, man, she’s quite the catch. I’d hate for her to cause anything between you and Danny boy.” He informed him, causing you to shoot him a look of confusion.

“What do you mean, man?” He asked back.

“Well, they’re quite involved, if you get what I’m saying.” Sam chuckled. He recoiled at the words, looking between you and Sam. “Oh, she didn’t tell you?” Scott shook his head, clearing his throat.

“Well, uh, it was nice talking to you, y/n.” He stood, excusing himself. Your stomach dropped. When Scott was out of earshot, you turned on Sam.

“What the fuck was that?” You seethed. Sam scoffed.

“You’re flirting with Danny’s friend, in his own house. That’s pretty low, even for you.” He announced. You stood, too, grabbing onto his arm and dragging him into the hallway for a little more privacy.

“I don’t know what idea you have in your head, but it’s wrong.” You informed him. “Unless you really wanted to go above and beyond to make me miserable tonight.” You let go of him, turning to face him now.

“The idea that you’ve been fucking Danny and flirting with everyone else behind his back? I’m pretty sure that I’ve got that pretty clear.” He shot back, arms crossed over his chest.

“Are you delusional?” You asked, incredulously. “I’m not sure what world you’re living in, but Danny and I are most definitely not fucking.” A look of uncertainty flashed in Sam’s eyes. “And not that it’s any of your business, but we never have.” His posture slipped a bit, relaxing slightly.

“He seems to like you an awful lot, and you’re always over here, or he’s at your place. I have a pretty hard time believing that.” He said, still on the defensive. If he didn’t hate you so much, you could almost believe he was jealous.

“Because we’re friends, Sam!” You shouted, shoving your hands into his chest. He faltered, running into the wall behind him. “If you could get past your own ego and talk to me for ten seconds, you would know that! Maybe you would also know that he’s the only friend I’ve ever really had, so yeah, we’re pretty close!” You we’re fuming.

“Oh, so I’m the bad guy because I don’t like you?” He snapped back now, catching the attention of a few stray people passing by. “If I remember correctly, you were the one who started flirting with me, and then I walk in one day to you making breakfast in Danny’s kitchen with just his shirt on!” You stepped back when he spoke, not expecting him to explode like that. As soon as he’d said the words, the months of passive-aggressiveness seemed to make so much more sense. “I thought that maybe you actually liked me, that it was going somewhere, and then I walk in on you in my best friends kitchen like that?” He was getting closer to you with every word he said. The tension was immeasurable. You were both furious.

“Maybe instead of running away, you could’ve just talked to me like a normal person! Then you went on your little fucking power trip, being an asshole to me whenever you got the chance. Do you get off to it, treating me like shit?” Your noses were practically touching by now.

“It kills me, actually.” He was speaking lowly, now, just for you to hear. “Because even if you’re a fucking slut, somehow I still feel the same way about you as I did back then.” He admitted. “But it’s always Danny this, Danny that, he’s the best guy in the whole world and Sam’s just a douchebag, right? I get to watch him love you and get chastised because you broke my fucking heart.” You could’ve strangled him on the spot.

“You’re an idiot, Sam.” You shook your head. “You are so fucking stupid.” You laughed. He didn’t know how to respond, watching you intensely as you formulated your next sentence. “I was falling for you too, Sam. You broke my heart, too.” You spat. “Everything is not always about you!” You saw something flash in his eyes. Remorse, maybe? You weren’t sure.

“Do you still feel that way?” His tone still patronizing, but laced with curiosity.

“No,” you hissed. “You may be attractive, but you’re still a dick. I liked you when you didn’t want to make my life a living hell.”

“So you think I’m hot?” He smirked.

“Fuck off, Sam.” You tried to push past him and rejoin the party. He grabbed your wrist as you passed him, pulling you back to face him.

“I asked you a question.”

“I’m not going to sit here and stroke your ego all night.” You pulled at your arm, trying to shake him off. He pulled you in closer, letting his free hand rest on your hip. Goosebumps prickled your skin as you looked up at him through your eyelashes.

“I was kind of hoping you’d stroke something else.” As cringey as the pass was, you couldn’t help but feel your breath catch in your throat. His grip on you tightened slightly, but you didn’t want to give him any satisfaction.

“In your dreams, Kiszka.” You breathed, unsure of why he was affecting you so much. You hated him.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve dreamt about it a lot.” He was leaning down, lips resting on your ear now. The feeling of his breath on your skin ignited something in you, suddenly not caring about the months of shit he’d given you.

“Then why don’t you do something about it, already?” His grip on your waist tightened just before he snaked his hand around to your lower back, moving to the side and pushing you in front of him. He guided you into the nearest open door, which happened to be the bathroom, and closed it behind him. You had no time to process what he was doing before you were lifted onto the counter, Sam between your legs and his lips on yours.

You wasted no time getting your hands on him, pulling him closer to you. The bulge in his jeans was growing more noticeable by the second and his hands were clawing at the bottom of your dress. His fingers slipped underneath, teasing you through the lace of your panties. You let a moan slip out into his mouth, suddenly becoming hyper aware of where you were and who could hear you. “Sam,” you said against his lips. He didn’t stop but he switched to kissing down your neck, sucking marks into the soft skin. “S-Sammy,” you whined. He hummed against you, pulling your underwear to the side and running his hands through the pool of wetness. “We can’t do this here!” You whispered, but your body was betraying you. You were grinding yourself against his hand, begging for friction.

“You want me to stop?” He mumbled, mouth now down to your collarbone. His unoccupied hand freed one of your tits from the top of your dress, wasting no time pulling it into his mouth. You let out a hiss of pleasure, trying to find the willpower to push him off of you. He let his fingers slip inside of you, making it even harder for you to tell him to stop. “That’s what I thought, princess.”

“Can you at least lock the door?” You pleaded, finally making him pull his head away, but his fingers remained steady. He looked at you, lust clouding his vision. He gave a smirk before he spoke.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he drawled, pulling your chin up so you would look him in the eyes. “I’m going to get you off, and if you can stay completely silent, I’ll lock the door before I fuck you.”

“Sam-“

“Ah,” he cut you off, letting his thumb trail over your bottom lip. “Or, I can just leave you here like this, dripping and aching for someone to take care of you.” Your eyes widened in shock, not willing to call his bluff. ‘Still an asshole even in the bedroom.’ You made a mental note. But, it was fucking hot. “Up to you,”

“I can be quiet.” You promised. He let his thumb that was tracing your lip push past them. You opened your mouth slightly, allowing easier access, then closing it around it. You suctioned your mouth for a moment, and then let him pull it away. It left your lips with a gentle pop. He let out a long exhale.

“I know you can, baby. Just be good for me for a little while, and I’ll lock the door for you.” You nodded, eager for him to keep touching you. His fingers moving inside you weren’t enough, you needed more. He pulled his hand from you, bent down slightly and hooked his arms under your thighs. He pulled your ass forward, bunching the bottom of your dress in his hands and got down on his knees. Your breath caught in your throat just watching him between your thighs. Not once did you think you’d end up here.

He ran his tongue through your folds, getting a taste of what he’d been doing to you for the last few minutes. His attention landed on your clit, which had been begging for him all night. Just with a swirl of his tongue, you were trying not to scream his name. He could tell just how much he was affecting you, and it was driving him crazy. He suctioned his lips around the bundle of nerves, causing you to reach your hand to his hair. It only drove him to work harder, now adding his fingers back to you. You were biting your lips and trying to steady your breathing, praying a noise wouldn’t slip from your mouth. He was secretly hoping you would, just to get the satisfaction. He curled his fingers, hitting a spot inside you that caused you to pull on the strands of hair you had in your grasp. He pulled away for a moment to catch his breath. “Fuck you taste good, baby.”

Your feeling of desperation was immeasurable. You wanted so badly to say his name, make some noise to show him how good he was making you feel, but the idea of someone hearing you made hold back. Sam was pumping his fingers at an agonizing pace, using his tongue to drive you over the edge. He wanted someone to hear you, to know that you were making noise just for him. Within minutes, you were at your end, the knot in your stomach growing by the second. You bit down on your tongue in a last ditch to silence yourself, but when his tongue ghosted over your clit one last time and you lost yourself to pleasure, his name tumbled from your lips along with a gasp. You gripped his hair hard enough that he had to fight to keep his mouth on you. When you came down from the high, your limbs felt like putty. “I-I’m s-sorry,” you stuttered as he came back up to his feet. Your orgasm was glistening on his chin as he pulled you in for a kiss.

“Don’t apologize to me, I could listen to you say my name like that all day.” He breathed. His hand reached to the doorknob, clicking the lock. “I don’t want anyone interrupting this.” He said, pulling at the buckle of his belt. You hit his hands out of the way, wanting to do it yourself. You slid off the counter, praying you could stay steady on your feet just for a moment. You undid the button of his jeans and pulled his zipper down. With one swift moment you pulled his cock free and dropped to your knees.

A gasp of surprise came from him as you took him in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip. He balled your hair in his fist, letting his head fall back with a groan. You relaxed your jaw and took him as far as you could into your mouth, bobbing up and down. “Fuck, y/n.” He muttered, looking down at you. “You look so pretty like this.” Your eyes fluttered up to meet his. The look on his face was enough to send you over the edge, but you kept going, wanting to make him feel the same way he’d made you feel. You bobbed your head down once more and he bucked his hips forward, causing a gag to overtake you. He pulled you off of him by your hair in an instant, feeling slightly bad for his earlier action. “I need you to stop before I cum. I still need to fuck you, remember?” His tone was breathy, trying to sound arrogant but failing slightly.

Just as you sprung back to your feet, he pulled you in for another kiss, filled with neediness. He pulled away, spinning you around and pushing you down so your chest was flush with the counter. He hiked your dress up again, this time far enough up that your ass was exposed. You felt his hands brush over it softly, giving a gentle squeeze while he admired the view. It was the most tame he’d acted with you all night. As if he’d realized it too, you felt a sharp smack, eliciting a gasp from you. He pulled your underwear to the side again, lining himself up with your cunt and showing no mercy thrusting into you. A yelp escaped from your lips, but you silenced yourself quickly. He grabbed your hair in his fist again, pulling your head back and leaning down so his lips were on your ear.

“Keep your fucking mouth shut,” he hissed, teeth grazing over your earlobe. “I’m going to keep going, now. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sammy.” You rushed out.

“That’s my good girl.” He said, pulling away from you. “I love those noises baby, but I want to keep them all to myself.” Fuck, he was hot. You didn’t have any time to ponder over the words, because he’d resumed his pace, fucking into you desperately. He had one hand on your hip and the other still knotted in your hair. You hoped the music in the main room was covering the noises of his skin slapping on yours, but you wanted him so badly you didn’t care. “Fuck you feel good.” He growled, loosening his grip on your hair so he could move his other hand to your waist.

“Harder, please, Sammy.” You pleaded.

“You asked for it,” he groaned, more to himself than you. He dug his fingers into your hips and pulled you back onto him as he thrusted into you. You couldn’t help but let a choked moan out, but he didn’t care enough to chastise you for it. He kept up his pace, hitting your cervix with every re-entry.

“I’m gonna…” you trailed off, voice wobbly from the pleasure and the pace he was fucking you at.

“You wanna cum, princess?” He asked. All you could do was hum a noise of affirmation. “Okay, baby,” he mumbled. “Cum for me.” He demanded, but you could tell that underneath the authority he was begging for you to do so. With a few more thrusts, you found yourself coming undone, your legs giving out from underneath you.

“Fuck, Sam!” You gasped. In an instant, his hand flung around you to cover your mouth, stifling any noises or profanities you couldn’t hold back. He wasn’t far behind you, twitching inside you and hips faltering. He pulled you onto him one more time, holding you in place. He lost his composure, leaning down on top of you as he reached his own orgasm. He managed to mutter your name while he turned your head to the side to connect your mouths again.

Heavy breathing filled the otherwise silent room. You were both covered in sweat, in no shape to go out and face the crowd of people outside. He pulled out of you, moving his hand under you to avoid any mess spilling out. You laid on the counter for a moment, not feeling strong enough to hold yourself up. He pulled you panties back in place, leaning down and leaving a small kiss on your asscheek, then sucking a mark into it. You let a giggle out as he pulled your dress back down. “That’s for me to see, later.” He assured you. He pulled his pants back up and buckled his belt.

“I have to get cleaned up.” You informed him, finally pushing yourself up off the counter. You made a move to push past him, but he stopped you.

“Fix your hair and your makeup and get back out there.” He said, no look of joking in his features.

“But Sam-“

“You heard me.” He said, placing another kiss to your lips. You felt yourself throb at his order. “You’re gonna go out there and hope you don’t make a mess anywhere, and in twenty minutes, you’re going to meet me outside and we’re going to leave.” He informed you. You couldn’t even protest, his tone turning you on again as soon as the words left his mouth.

“Where are we going?” You asked.

“To my place, and then you’re going to let me hear all of those pretty noises I missed out on.” He said, pulling you in for one more kiss. “And then maybe tomorrow I can take you on a real date, make up for… well, everything.” His voice was softer now, taking your cheek in his hand and running a delicate thumb over it.

“I’d like that.” You assured him. A small smile broke out on his face. Your heart fluttered. It had been a long time since he’d smiled at you.

“Me, too.” It was crazy how different he was acting in comparison to just a few moments before. “You should cover up those hickeys, too. If we haven’t been caught yet, we will be if you walk out with those on display.” He chuckled. You turned to look in the mirror, inspecting the damage. He was right, he had left a few marks that were darkening already. You wiped away the smudged mascara and lipstick, thankful you hadn’t worn too much makeup.

You straightened your hair out and ran a hand through it, brushing out any knots that had formed. Sam admired you, looking at your face in the mirror. He felt like shit that he’d been so mad at you for no real reason, and that he was so hurt he never bothered to ask you for the full story. But, the looming knowledge that he held made him feel even worse. Danny was most certainly in love with you, and he’d just fucked you in his bathroom. “I think this is as good as it’s gonna get.” You sighed.

“Beautiful,” Sam said, pulling you back into him. “I’m sorry for being a dick.” He mumbled, lips pressed into your hair.

“You’ll make up for it.” You smiled into his chest. He nodded, huffing out a sigh. Guilt had begun to eat him alive. “Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“Does Danny know that you don’t have feelings for him?” You looked up to him, wondering why he’d bring this up right now.

“I mean, I never said it explicitly, but I’ve also never made any advances either. I don’t see why he would think I do. He’s never even brought anything up in regards to it, either.” You said. Sam nodded, taking a sharp intake of breath. “Why?”

“I think that maybe you should talk to him.”

“Why?” You asked again. He stayed silent, fingers dancing over your cheekbones. “Sam, why should I talk to him?” You pressed.

“If we’re gonna do whatever this is, he should be the first to know.” He eased into it. Your stomach dropped, knowing exactly what he was hinting at.

“You knew he had feelings for me?” You whispered. “And you had sex with me in his bathroom?”

“I know,” he ran a hand through his hair. “Probably not the smartest move on my part.”

“You think?”

“Fuck, y/n, I’m not trying to be the bad guy!” He exclaimed. “I’ve been in love with you for just as long! Maybe I could’ve went about it differently, but we don’t have to tell him this part exactly!” Your stomach churned with anxiety. “If you knew that before, would you still have done it?”

“Of course not!” Sam recoiled as if you’d shot him. Your eyes widened. “No, not like that, Sam!” He relaxed a bit. “I mean, yes I still would’ve gotten with you, but not here! I like you, Sammy, and I have from the beginning, but I don’t want to hurt him, ever. He’s my best friend!”

“He’s mine, too!” He snapped back. You took a deep breath.

“Listen, it’s okay. We’ll figure it out.” You said, taking his hand into yours and intertwining your fingers. “I want to be with you, I really do. I’ve always liked you, although you were quite the asshole for a while, I still do. I wouldn’t have had sex with you if I didn’t.” You reiterated your earlier point to soothe his worry. He leaned into you, nodding at your words.

“I want to be with you, too. We’ll make it work, and we’ll do everything we can to make sure he’s alright, too.” He said softly. “But the bathroom incident stays a secret for the rest of our lives.” You let out a giggle.

“Alright, then.” You stood on your tip-toes to place a kiss on his lips. “I’d still like you to take me home with you, tonight, if you’d have me.” You whispered. “We don’t have to do anything, I think I’d just like to be there with you.”

“Of course, princess. I couldn’t think of anything I’d want more.”

.

Part two, perhaps?

[neonovember]

Could you do an Ari Levinson x teen!daughter!reader after she has a hard day?

this is my first time writing a daughter!reader insert so please if you have any tips do share cause it was tricky at times, this was fun to write nevertheless! I feel like Ari and Steve would be the best people to talk to after a hard day, (it also help that they have huge chests you can cry into).

seriously tho, fuck group projects

Burgers and Milkshakes

pairing: dad!Ari Levinson x teen!daughter!reader

warnings; anxiety, panic attacks, self deprecation, group projects

summary: life is hard, especially when sometimes the thoughts become too much. But your father is nowhere but where you need him, and he’s got a hell of a lot of patience.

The cracked concrete under your converses crunch as you stomp down the edged path, the summer afternoon rays have just set in, beating down at you incessantly. You can feel the sweat drip down your neck, cascading down your back, before absorbing into your dampening shirt. You itch with the need for a shower, cringing at the sweat pooling near the nape of your neck, you almost scream when you have to blow your hair out of your face for the 100th time.

Your backpack presses painfully into your shoulders, weighed down by the thick binders of books you had shoved from your locker the second the bell rang. It wouldn't normally be a problem, especially since your house was only a short walk away, but God had found it amusing to throw a wrench in that, and instead, your usual short cut had been taken over my fluorescent vests and the smell of sweating workmen rebuilding what you had thought was a perfectly well built gravel road.

It had been years since you had last taken this route, and in your haste to get home, you had forgotten how scenic it was. The spiny concrete path was enraptured with nature, with low willow trees bending over so close you had to duck from its emerald leaves, and a river stream that broke the sunlight across it like diamonds. Your fingers itched to grab your notebook and draw a quick sketch, but you didn't doubt something would bite you if you tried reaching into the black hole that was your backpack.

Summer break was just around the corner, creeping in to the point where you could practically taste the salt air of golden beaches and feel the sticky mess of dripping red ice pops. Most importantly, you couldn't wait until you were dragging Ari to one of the hundred museum’s your town had to offer. Your classmates had reiterated the same desires, some telling you about the trips they would take abroad, and through the country, Ryan, a short but loud kid in  your class, had even said his dad had gotten his family an RV to sail across the states.

You would've liked that, you think, travelling through the country with a beat up RV, collecting trinkets and cheap souvenirs from each city and town you drove to despite your fathers protests. Ari maybe even finally teaching you how to drive, finding an empty country road where it was so far from civilization your father would be sure you wouldn't accidentally kill some pedestrian.

Either which way your summer break would go, you couldn't wait before emptying your locking and leaving those faded blue entrance doors to your school. It wasn't that you hated school, in fact you didn't mind it, especially when the tight knit group of friends you had made it that much more tolerable, but it seems like more and more things were happening that was just piling onto, and you feared you were one thread away from imploding. 

And the reminder of what had occurred today turns your mouth sour, and the relief the scenic trail had given you is now overrun by an immense feeling of anger and frustration. Your shoulder still aches from your backpack, and the never ending sweat continues to drip down your back, and it all just feels too much.

You had this fear, this incredibly foolish fear that you were unknowingly despised. It had taken over your entire life one summer, shackling you to the confines of your room despite your friends begging for you to come out, you just felt it, like the blood in your veins, that you were just, unlikable.

And most days your friends would snap you from that never ending spiral, reminding you of how loved and adored you were, your own father, despite being the biggest burly man you knew, wouldn’t think twice before sitting you down and letting you cry your heart out to him, before taking you out to your favourite diner in town.

“Nothing cures tears like a burger and milkshake”

At Least it was better than having him storm into school and beat up the first person who looked at you wrong, yeah much better.

But recently, it felt like you could feel yourself slipping into that self-deprecating puddle, and there was no way to stop it, left to just watch yourself sink, sink, sink like quicksand until you were drowning. You feared today had been the day that broke the camel's back, and it began to hit you, as you were left to be consumed with your thoughts walking home, how much it had affected you.

You were so distracted with your thoughts, you hadn't realised you had trekked through most of the trail, seeing the familiar sight of your neighbourhood just around the bend. It was the afternoon rush, and the street was alive with sedans and vans packed with kids, some smushing their faces against the window, the bickering sound of siblings fighting over food and the familiar sound of cartoons coming from Ipads. 

You would have appreciated the sight of the world alive if you weren’t drowning in the anxious thoughts that circled you like a shark, waiting to pounce. Jaywalking across the road, and avoiding the judgy look from the lollipop man, you finally make it to your street, and yet your relief is short lived when you nearly fall due to an obstruction on the road. You catch yourself just in time, stumble a little before realising you've nearly tripped over your neighbour's dog. The golden haired boy looks at you curiously, unfazed and not moving from his rested position on the sidewalk. The poor boy was exhausted from the afternoon sun, flapping his ears as you scratch under them.

“You better be careful next time Sunny” Calls your neighbour, waving at you from her seated position on the coach that was pushed onto the decked veranda. A embroided fan is gripped in her hand, and a glass of something orange rattles with ice cubes in her other. She waves you over, and you jog across her yard, running a hand through the sprinkler she had going.

“Bruno’s been sittin’ there for hours, don’t know what's gotten into him, ‘specially with this heat and all” Your neighbour says, passing you a glass of what you now recognise to be cordial. The artificial sweetness tastes like heaven on your tongue, and you can’t help but gulp it down in 3 sips before wiping a hand across your mouth.

Your neighbour smiles at you, her curious gaze penetrating you like you were translucent.

“You alright there Sunny?” She asks, and you have to peel your mind away from the cesspool of your thoughts to form a coherent response.

“I think it's just the heat, I’ve been feeling out of it all day” You reply, your neighbour nodding along to you, before the clank of metal resounds from your backyard.

“That’s your dad, I think he's been trying to fix that car in the back, he's worse than Bruno that one, won’t even stop for a drink” Your neighbour teases, and at the mention of your father you quickly bid her goodbye before wasting no time to run up the front porch stairs stuffing your key into the door. The cool air of your hallway almost makes you cry. 

You pass by the hooked photos of you and dad, before dumping your heavy backpack onto the couch, craning your neck for any sign of your father but of course he isn't anywhere you can see. 

“Dad” You yell, walking towards the kitchen, hoping he hears you through the fly screen of the backyard.

“Dad” You yell again, irritated at his silence, you open the fridge door, resting your head on the shelf as the cool air calms the rising anger and sweat. Your neighbour's generous drink had satiated you for the length it took to walk from her house to your own, not goddamn long. 

You peer at the fridge, only to find the shelves bare and the sides where a usual jug of ice water would be, empty. You slam the fridge door so hard, the cabinets rattle from your abuse. 

You notice the jug on the countertop that you had filled with water in the morning, now warm and gross from the afternoon heat. Your father had completely forgotten your request to put it in the fridge earlier before you had left for school. A simple, straight forward request that would take no longer than 5 minutes. 

You storm through the kitchen, sliding the fly screen door open to see your father under a pick up truck that had been sitting in your backyard for months. Your father seemed to love taking on impossible projects rather than completing simple tasks you had specifically asked him to.

You storm towards him, noticing the faded red beat up radio spurting out Marvin Gaye. Of course he couldn't hear you, you could barely think against the loud tunes coming from the speaker. 

You turn the speaker off with your foot, screaming rather purposefully 

“DAD!!”

Your father shrieks, a loud clunk coming from under the truck before a groan follows. Something like a muffled curse leaves your father's mouth before he rolls himself out from under the truck.

“Jesus, honey, I almost broke my nose under there” Your father groans out, dusting his hands across his jeans before leaning back onto this palms.

There's motor oil and grease splattered across his worn shirt, a bandana is wrapped like a headband across his forehead, pushing out the loose strands of curls sticking to his face. His hands have it the worst, charcoal black, the consistency of tar wedged between his fingers and under his fingernails.

“Pass me a rag will you?” He nods towards a dirty chequered handkerchief, wiping his brow with a hand as the sun beats down on the both of you. 

You stare at him baffled, did he not see the gigantic jug of warm water you had in your hand?

“You alright there hun? Some aliens did not abduct my daughter and bring in a clone?” You father jokes, chuckling at his own joke before stopping abruptly at your still silence. 

“Shit, for real? Bring me my daughter back!-” Your father replies, getting up from his knelt position.

“Dad” You reply monotone

“-All honesty your kind should be pretty scared, that girl has a mean right hook, so if you even dare try any-” Your father continues rambling

“Dad! God! Can you look at me?” You shout, and your father looks taken back, you never shouted, not really, not unless you were on a rollercoaster or because you were mad. And your backyard sure wasn't Six Flags.

“I left this Jug of water on the countertop, and I told you to put it in the fridge because someone in this house actually listens to the weekly forecast. And I was right, today was the hottest day since, since, like 50 years! And- and you- I told you and you know what you said? You said okay, you told me you weren't a 5 year old and would know that a jug of water on the kitchen counter had to be put in the fridge”

Your father shifts his gaze to the jug of water in your hand, noticing how your arm shakes a little, the knuckles in your hand protruding out as you hold tight, too tight.

“I come home expecting a nice cold drink of water, and I see it, still there, not moved one inch from where I put it!” You shout, frustrated, you want to throw the jug across the yard, watch the glass shatter and water spill into the concrete, turning it dark before the sun brightens it again.

“Sun? Hey, I’m sorry. That was my fault, I should've put it in the second you asked me to, I just got wrapped up in this,” You father nods his head to the pickup truck propped up by bricks, “But that was more important, whatever you tell me is more important okay?” Your father replies, and you nod in agreement

“Yes, that's right” You reply, and your father moves closer to you

“Can I take the jug from you? I’ll just place it right here okay?” Your father replies, and you nod as he takes the jug from you and places it to the side, you don't notice it, but your hands still shake and Ari clasps them in his own, smiling down at you as he holds them to his chest.

“You’re shaking honey” Your father replies

You stare down at your vibrating hands, shaking them as if that would tear away all the anxiety that feels like it's begun to stick to your skin. It’s a different kind of heat that fills you, your chest aches like air is being passed through a wall, every shallow breath leaves you panting for oxygen and you reach out to Ari in panic distress.

“Sun? Sunny? Baby can you hear me? I got you alright? Oh honey” Ari strains, engulfing you into his chest, before picking you up bridal style

“I’m just gonna take you inside okay? Away from all this heat, you don't have to do anything, just hold onto me okay?” 

You can't bring yourself to form a coherent response, pushing your face into his shoulder to stop the tears from streaming down. It was all too much, the thoughts, the fears, the black hole that always seemed to pull you down into it, like it was a shadow following you everywhere, waiting and waiting until it could sink its claws knuckles deep.

The motion of Ari taking you back inside feels numb, like you're wading through a current. It's all around you now, your mind, it's slipping between the cracks like sand through fingers.

You find your back against the living room couch, a glass of water on the coffee table and that sight makes you sink, it makes you break because it's cold to the touch and you've ruined it all. 

“Sunny? You gotta breathe for me, can you do that? In, out, in out, you know this, it's muscle memory. I know it seems impossible, but your body knows what to do, just let it, let go” 

You don't notice your shallow hiccuped breathing until you take control of it, forcing your lungs to swallow air, breathing it in through the stomach like your father had taught you. It takes time, but Ari is patient, holding you as you breathe in and out, he would do it forever if he wanted to, he would be buried holding his baby girl if he needed to.

“You wanna tell me what's been going on?” Your father replies after he feels the rhythmic beat of your chest return to the pace he's memorised. 

“I- I don't know, it's that feeling Dad, I- I can't help but feel so shitty about myself. And I- I don't know if its school or or” You ramble, and your Ari just listens, listens to you unleash all the bottled feelings you had kept hanging onto your shoulders. 

“Anything happen at school?” Ari replies

You shrug, wiping away tears that had streamed down your cheeks

“Group project” You reply, and Ari nods, rubbing a hand down soothingly up and down your back.

“Someone giving you a hard time?” Ari replies “I swear to god if-” 

“No, no no. Nothing like that, just someone being condescending and equally unhelpful. I asked her multiple times, this- this girl part of the group to contribute and you know what she does instead? Take my name off the goddamn paper” You gruff

“What? Are you kidding? Does your teacher know? Do you want me to call her?”

“No its fine, I handled it, but it was just frustrating, felt like she hated me for absolutely no reason, and no one in the group even cared, it was like, it was like they silently agreed to everything she said.

“You can’t control how others view you, trust me on this, people are going to think what you think, and no amount of changing or convincing will shift their own perception of you. But hey” Your father holds your face in his large palms, rubbing away the tears with his thumb

“That's all it is, a perception. They don't know you, they're outsiders looking in, and there are plenty of people who have known you your whole life that still won't understand you. And that's okay, you're the only one who has to live inside your head so fuck em’, this is your life baby girl, and you are the most talented, intelligent and most wonderful person I will ever now. Ever.”

You can’t hide your smile, and your fathers eyes light up at the change in your face. You reach for him and move to hug his neck, with your eyes squeezed shut, you don't doubt that your anxiety will always be a part of your life, your own little roommate, but you don't doubt that your father will be there too, taking up most of the coach, and filling your life until he was apart of you too.

“Fuck group projects, they still make you do that?” Ari replies after a beat

“Fuck group projects” You giggle, whilst nodding.

The silence of the living room is interrupted by a loud gurgling coming from your stomach, and your father chuckles and it tells you enough of what hes going to say next.

Burgers and milkshakes

“And if you had looked closer I bought a 10 pack of water, it’s sitting there in the back shelves. Know it's hard to see cause of all the other shit so I don't blame you-” 

You shift from your position on the diner coach.

“What? You- you should've told me dad, I got mad at you for nothing” You reply, now feeling the guilt flood through you, you had a hard time regulating your feelings, and sometimes your father is on the receiving end of it.

Your father shakes you off, leaning back onto the booth couches

“No, no no, stop with that, you were right, you had asked me and I forgot, and it might of been small but you had a lot going on and I couldn't see that, that's my fault, I’m your father, I’m meant to notice these things, it's my job” Your Father replies, sighing

“For the record, your a pretty good dad despite that brain of yours” You reply, smiling

“What, you're saying there's something wrong with my noggin? The same one that gave you all your smarts huh?” Your father teases, pointing a fry at you

“Um..I’m pretty sure I got that from Mom so” You giggle,

Something flashes across your fathers eyes, like a bittersweet nostalgia that glazes over his blues, and he nods at your reply

“Yeah, yeah you did” Your father smiles, and you bite your lip at the mention of your Mom, savouring the moment of the silent exchange of the memories of her between you and your father, a silent longing that never fully goes away even years after.

“So you think we should get you tested?” You reply after a moment

“Hhm” Your father coughs out, blinking back his eyes as he shifts them from staring blankly out the diner window. 

“You know just in case of an early onset of dementia” You reply 

“I heard their handing out free lobotomies from Levinson's backyard, you gotta get under a pick up truck and get your daughter real angry so that when she screams your name you bang your head real hard under there” You continue laughing

Your father shakes his head “You’ve been keeping that one in huh?, Just know the feds will be coming after you” Your father replies

“What do you mean? '' You ask confused, and that confusion doubles as your father grins at your reply, like there was something he was hiding from you.

“I was fixing that pick up truck so I could teach you during the break, and then it's yours, if you well, pass which is highly unlikely since you don't know one thing about motor vehicles-” Your father replies, before he gets cut off by you squeal, you scramble from across the booth and wrap your arms tight around Ari, stuffing your face into his neck as he grips you tight with his arms.

“You’ve just been promoted from pretty good to amazing” You sniffle, and your father chuckles, rubbing his hand across your back.

“Don't get too excited it ain't finished yet, still gotta fix the motor, and that goddamn sluggish accelerator” Your father groans

“The oil router to the engine, yeah yeah, I’m already a genius at this” You reply and you grin as the sound of your father laugh spreads through him, like a syrup of joy that seems into you, in a way that overshadows all the anxieties and thoughts and fears that had taken homage in your head. 

Burgers and Millshakes really did solve everything, especially ones where the cook listens to 70’s pop out of the same beat up stereo your friend had sold for a pack of Marlboros

[amoralcrackpot]

Orientation

"And that, my sweet, supple henchmen..." Girwin half-assedly lilted, and the grotesque, phlegm-clogged bleating of one of the newly hired sacrificial lambs in his morning tour group interrupted him mid-spittle.

It was sometime before lunch next Tuesday in the sunlit foyer of a giant skull carved from the lone mountain on a small island in the Pacific. Girwin was, and still is (as of this writing), often described by his coworkers, friends, family, and favorite, yet rather gossipy bartender as a, and we're quoting here, "middle-aged schlub of a middle-manager pissing away every precious moment of his life working in human resources for a soulless, yet respectably profitable criminal organization." The dozen or so murmuring mutton-to-be in ill-fitting radiation suits in front of him were preoccupied with complaints about being forced to wear a mask indoors (seemingly in spite of all the radiation), insisting radiation was just a myth, and idly scrolling through their respective social media feeds. Yet none of them noticed that the aforementioned rude interruption was little more than a quick cover up for what proved to be an otherwise silent, if now wholly trapped bit of fart in someone's suit. In fact, most everyone but Girwin and that damned soul now stewing in their own gasses ignored this entirely. Girwin, however, in all his insecure whatever-the-opposite-of-glory-is, mistook this as a rude but helpful reminder of a new interoffice memo regarding inclusion. He couldn't be assed to read the damned thing, of course. But he had heard some of the younger employees discussing something about pronouns, and thus thought it best to correct himself before someone thought to file a complaint and he'd be forced to investigate himself again. And while such a thing normally wouldn't be much of a problem at all, Girwin had planned to duck out a bit early to read to strippers on his way to volunteer at the animal euthanatorium, so he hoped to avoid any extra paperwork that afternoon. But such is life. And as such, it continues even after a rude, brief, yet complete misunderstanding.

"My apologies," Girwin apologized, pausing only long enough to make everyone feel every bit as uncomfortable as he had hoped. "And that, my succulent, savory, hench-persons, concludes our tour. I hope you found today's experiences not only enlightening, but informative, as I would hate to have to kill any of you before your ninety-day review. But more importantly, I want to be the first to welcome you to the E.V.I.L. family!"

As deafening disinterest settled in, Girwin fluffed up his own round of flaccid applause in a failed attempt to conclude this complete waste of his time without another interruption.

"Excuse me, Girwin?" one of the sheep baa'd, raising one of its gloved hands.

Girwin sighed in that way where one very much wants someone else to know just how pissed-offingly annoyed they are with them, but also neither wishes to appear rude nor professional. "Yes, Jeff?"

"It's pronounced, 'Jeff.'"

"What did I say?"

Jeff considered this, and shrugged. "I forget."

"Well, Whoever-You-Are," Girwin said, pleased with his ability to only barely resist his sudden urge to casually demonstrate the efficacy of the company-provided emergency disintegrator ray strapped to his hip. "Would you like to get to your question before I shoot you dead in front of all your soon-to-be former colleagues?

"Yes, I think I'd like that," Jeff replied, immediately followed by the absence of both thought and sound.

Girwin looked on at this artistic display of intellectual failings with a delightfully fruity cocktail of confusion, contempt, and subconscious positioning of his hand in such a way that it was, more or less, now touching and/or holding the aforementioned company-provided emergency disintegrator ray. "Care to give us a hint, then?"

"Oh, right," Jeff chuckled in that uniquely stupid way that universally translates to, I'm an insufferable idiot. "It's about the company mission statement."

"And what of it?"

“Oh,” Jeff pouted. “I thought you were going to guess.” He pulled a mangled, dog-eared copy of the E.V.I.L. employee handbook from his ill-fitting radiation suit, and opened it to a page marked with brightly colored bits of paper and ink. "Well," he continued, skipping the bits in blue and reading the bits in pink, "It says right here, 'E.V.I.L. seeks one goal, and one goal only: world domination.'"

Girwin looked on at Jeff as if the blithering bookreader were the stupidest person he had ever met, which was saying a lot given Girwin's already low and highly vocal opinion of Brennifer in accounting. "You're not one of those soft, tender-loined liberals, are you, Jeff?"

"No-no-no," Jeff laughed yet again in that face-punching way he had about him, stupidly unaware of the rather erotic way Girwin's fingers traced over the slick chrome casing of his company-provided emergency disintegrator ray. "I'm a real cold-hearted son-of-a-bitch, Sir."

"Such a shame I have to kill you after this."

Jeff smiled and nodded. "Agreed. But 'world domination' does seem a bit vague and open-ended."

"Is that right?"

"Yes. Sounds like a hassle, really."

Maybe it was lightning in a bottle, a sudden stroke of significant, deep introspective insight into the illicit doings and beings of arguably the evilest corporation owned and operated by the evilest owners not involved with the designing and manufacturing of suspect electric vehicles. Maybe it was the marijuana Girwin had smoked in the bathroom before the start of that morning's tour. Or maybe it was the way the filtration unit on the ill-fitting radiation suits tended to muffle the wearer's voice. Whatever the reason, Girwin and the rest of his sheep seized on Jeff with all the dumbfounded, jaw-slacking attention usually reserved for adolescent boys reading their first laughably ham-fisted description of female breasts in a clunky horror novel. "What do you mean?" Girwin eventually drooled.

"Well," Jeff started, slipping a gloved hand and arm right up into his still-open, still ill-fitting radiation suit, and picked his nose. "If Adjunct Professor Conniption already has the technology to access alternate realities and create parallel worlds, why doesn't he just, I dunno, go to some perfect world of his own making instead of resigning himself to a life of micromanagement?"

The others considered this for a moment in loud, distorted whispers, but Girwin decided he wasn't comfortable questioning his deep-seeded, self-imposed beliefs. "You know what?," he said. "To Hell with this." And then he casually shot Jeff with his company-provided emergency disintegrator ray.

The group looked on at Jeff's disintegrated cremains sizzling and smoking with all the life of a sizzling, smoking pile of ash, and shuffled nervously in their ill-fitting, now urine-soaked radiation suits.

Girwin returned the company-provided emergency disintegrator ray to its place on his hip. "Are there any other questions?"

[elevatormusic]

my first reactions with zero context: only friends ep 8

immediately no

correct it is not right go tell them

girl. i hate this friend group saying they’re each others friends bc they’re all so shitty to each other

also?? why are you so worried about mew but never ray?? like babe he’s your friend too tf??

i beg of all of them to not be friends at the end of this show

wrong

true she’s the best

nooo baby

i know the fuck you’re not coming to talk to him

tell him no

also i do not like the shirt ray is wearing and it’s distracting me

you’re dating mew now dog?? you shouldn’t need an excuse anymore?? hello

run sand run away please

facts

you’re too good of a person i stg

i don’t understand what ray expected here lmao

no.

YES KING SET YOUR BOUNDARIES

you’re fucking joking bruh

man fuck you

he really won’t but also i want him to leave you alone so yes tell him that shit

dog you have no right. all you’ve done is treat him like shit

huh? why make drama for them? they aren’t even a big part of this show??

okay but tbh it’s not like ray is making this man do that shit? mew asked him for it

he’s really not in your way just move him lol

sir you do drugs idk how you can say that with a straight face

are you tho

fair tho

also fair

lmaoo i forgot he was actually in school still 😭

why’s he sitting like that tho💀 it looks so uncomfortable

ray’s kinda dumb huh

he very much made it clear to you already

tell his ass

say no sand i stg

straight up he saved your ass why should he do community service with you

ask your boyfriend???????

*shouting approval* *my dog jumped i’m sorry to her*

don’t let him manipulate you

“hanging out with ray so much” as if he wasn’t best friends with him this entire time? he literally hung out with him the most out of the friend group

well he’s not lol

cute

old people? you’re like 3 years older shut up

lick????? is this wrong translation? is this a real saying in thailand?

oh is he about to fuck up that relationship too?

me too bestie

yes.

again not saying ray isn’t toxic normally but like he’s not the one asking mew to do all this

don’t want a band anymore. bc he’s cutting you off lmao

what do you mean? why did he invite ton? and top? is he about to take his revenge there?

oh my that sound was awful

oh he went right for actual drugs

king he did not pick you. he’s using you

“someone i should love” but you don’t actually love him

hated that

told you

so he didn’t invite him? then who invited ton?

this is lowkey extremely overboard behavior just because his boyfriend cheated on him my god

he never once messed with your freedom please stop embarrassing yourself

oh god stop what the fuck

hold on what’s it got to do with sand if nick went? did he drag him there?

a queer icon okay sand i see you

mans said hurry up so i can leave

oh my god the mustache is so bad

LETS GO MY BI REPRESENTATION

what the fuck ray let the man kiss a fellow bisexual

why should he? he. doesn’t. want. to. be. your. friend.

this poor guy

annoyed sand is back baby. the world is healing

dude!!!! what the fuck

i didn’t think it was possible for ray to get more toxic but here we are

yes get mad at him

hit him sand

interesting that he’s finally admitting he has feelings for him at this point in time

HELL YEAH HELL FUCKING YEAH

did he really just ask that? in 2023?

when the worst person you know makes a good point

there’s no way he put his head on his shoulder like that. i know something about to be hurting him after this scene

wait for real?

what are you mad for? you knew that shit from the start

the four of you literally don’t give a shit about each other

thank god. 2 friends down. 2 to go

HA

not top actually saving ray this time that’s kinda funny actually

good i’m glad sand left ray there

[luimagines]

Lovely lazy day cuddles and snuggles with Legend, Hyrule, and Twi (in Wolfie form) for bunny pretty please?

-🐰

Masterlist

Absolutely Bunny!

Coming right up!

Content under the cut!

The sun draped over the four of you like a blanket, comforting you in a hug that only mother nature could give.

“I don’t want to get up.” Legend groans. “Do you think if we all play dead Time would let us stay here for longer?”

You snort, and it jostles Legend’s head. He’s resting his head on your stomach with Wolfie curled up against his side, with his little doggy nose on your shoulder.

“I don’t think that would work.” Hyrule piped us. “Nor would he even think to believe us. If anything he might make us run laps or something.” 

Hyrule is resting on your other side, but with his head on your thigh. You’re not entirely sure how you became the group pillow but you can’t find it in yourself to complain. Everyone was tired and there wasn’t much to do as it stood. Most of the others were either town getting more supplies or fishing and neither of those seemed appealing to you at the moment.

You hummed and moved your arm ever so slightly to pet the top of Wolfie’s head. He yawned, sending a whole lot of gross dog breath in your face and you waved it away instead to make a point. “Wolfie someone needs to brush your teeth, that’s gross.”

He licked you nose and ignored the rest of your words.

“Rude.”

Legend laughed and poked your leg next to him. “That’s what you get. That dog doesn’t care who’s in his face as long as he gets what he wants.”

As if it was purposeful, Woflie rolled over and draped half off his weight on top of the young man’s chest, his fur flying up into Legend’s mouth.

“Pbbbttt- pbbttt- Wolfie-! You mutt! Get off of me! You’re killing me.” Legend tried to push the creature off but to no avail. You laughed as much as you could with the shifting weights on top of your own stomach. Hyrule sat up and moved over to pet the canine.

“Traveler, you traitor.” Legend glared up at the hero from beyond the wall of fur above his eyes.

Wolfie groaned a bit from the back of his throat and licked the tips of Hyrule’s fingers. Hyrule giggled and rubbed his nose. “Good boy.”

“A little help here.”

“Nah. I think you’re fine.” You said, and moved your hand over to pet Wolfie as well. “I think you’ve got everything under control.”

“I hate all of you.”

“No you don’t.”

“You’re free to leave.”

“I don’t want to.” Legend pouts and dramatically flops back on top of your stomach. You groan from the impact and flick his head for good measure. Legend smiles mischievously, trying to not let his amusement show. “Instead I’m going to make you all pay for this. My pride will not have died in vain.”

“What pride?”

“What died?”

“Shut up.” Legend snorted and relaxed once more.

“This is nice.” You took a deep breath and left it fill each nook and cranny of your body before letting it out. You focused on the contact point where your friends were and let the energy settle there, taking their warmth as a good sign.

“What are you guys doing?” Time’s voice carried over the gentle breeze that cooled you all down from the sun’s rays.

“We’re dead.”

“Resting our eyes.”

“Trying to nap.”

Wolfie let out a whine and another yawn, turning his head to look in the direction the voice had come from.

“Go get ‘em, Wolfie. Go. Attack.” You nudged the Wolf with your hand and he turned his head over to you. It was slow and bored movement. You’ve never seen an animal look less amused. It startled a laugh out of you and scratched under his chin as compensation. “Nevermind, you can stay here.”

He flopped his head onto your chest, successfully kicking Legend in the side in the process. Hyrule seemed to be the least affected by all the movement as of late and you couldn’t help but feel marginally jealous.

You could hear Time make his way over to your little group and he stood over you. Time blocked out the sun light, so for the first time in the hour were you able to look up properly. You grinned. “Hello Old Man.”

He smiled, looked at each and every one of you before his gaze landed on Wolfie. He stared a little harder but Woflie looked unperturbed. After a standstill between the you both, he nodded, content with whatever conclusion he came to. “As you were.”

“Awesome.” Legend punch the air above him. “We can stay!”

“Not for long!” Time shouted.

“Not for long.” Hyrule echoed. “Nap time?”

“Yes please, that sounds awesome.” You closed your eyes again and rested your head on the soft grass beneath you.

It wasn’t much but you were glad that you met the boys. If only so that you could share moments like this with them.

[1-800-c0sm1c]

I recently saw a suggestive gif with an ice lolly, before quickly stumbling upon a post with Ryuji.. You can probably see where I'm going with this.

Could you perhaps write about a gn reader and Ryuji on a super hot day grabbing some ice lollys, the two enjoying the other's presence before Ryuji looks over and sees reader unintentionally deep throating it? (Like it looks suggestive) Ryuji gets really flustered, and now it's even hotter...

I hope this doesnt overstep into more heavier nsfw, if it does please remove what you arent comfortable with or feel free to delete the request :) Also you can add more characters if you want! Though I only really know Persona 5 Strikers, so if you can add characters from that! Anyway enough rambling, hope you have fun with this!!

-Solar/⭐ (If I can claim either or that'd be great!)

꒰blue lemonade !꒱

eating popsicles with everyones fav electro boy !

character x gn!reader

includes ryuji !

warnings : suggestive content !

word count : 2273

beta read by : @cagethefrenchfuck​

a/n : solar anon youre a genius ,,, im here to make it even better with a friends to lovers prompt added into the chaos mwahahaha >:) i hope you enjoy this !

this summer heatwave was reaching record high temperatures, you were sure if you stayed out in the sun for too long youd melt into a puddle and evaporate almost immediately. you wanted nothing more than to feel the cool ocean breeze on your face and soak up rays in the sun. however, just like the rest of the phantom thieves, you and ryuji were broke and had decided to stay inside for most of summer vacation. whenever you werent grouped up together at rens house for mementos business, chances are ryuji was laying on your couch, complaining about the heat with a bag of frozen vegetables on his forehead, but you dont mind. if youre together, everything becomes colored by him. if you were into aura reading you swear everyone around the blonde would be a bright and sunny yellow, but yours turned blue the moment you met him. if he was the sun, youd be the ever changing sky, never one without the other, the tide and the sand.

despite the random movie playing on the tv, your attention was focused solely on your dramatic friend sitting next to you. ever since youve joined the phantom thieves, you and ryuji have been inseparable. ren and ann have called you the dynamic duo on multiple occasions, meanwhile morgana is simply just jealous that someone likes ryuji enough to want to hang out with him that often.

“oh come on ryuji, the fans are running on overdrive, theres no way you can still be that hot.” you rolled your eyes as he complains for the nth time this hour. “thats what you think, but i swear im gonna die if this heatwave lasts another day, man.” he sighs, sinking further into the couch. “if the heat doesnt kill you, then i will.” you mutter under your breath, but ryuji hears you loud and clear. “oh so you want a fight, is that it? lets take it to the metaverse right here, right now!” ryuji yells back with more energy than youve seen him with since school let out for the break. he puts his fists up pretending to swing punches at you across the couch, proceeding to drop the entire bag of (not really frozen anymore) peas on the hard floor of your living room. the bag breaks open, littering the vegetables all over the place. “oh shit. how thin is the materials of those frickin bags?” he quickly says, panic obvious in his voice. you sigh, quickly getting up to grab the broom to sweep up the mess ryuji had made. 

he follows you to the kitchen like a lost puppy, offering to clean everything up *plus* scrubbing your whole house before you quickly reassure him its not a big deal. “i doubt we were ever going to cook those up anyways, dont worry about it ryuji!” “but still! i feel bad for making a mess of your house. i dont want to give your mom any reason to hate me.” you raise an eyebrow at that. “oh? why do you want to be on my moms good side so bad? you planning on moving in or something?” he shrugs. “with how much weve been hanging out i might as well. last thing i need is to be banned from seeing you over some bags of frozen vegetables.”

theres a mysterious feeling inside of you, and you feel heat rising to your cheeks over that. hed go through all the trouble of deep cleaning your house just so he can still hang out with you? itd obviously never need to come to that, but the fact that its the first thought he has cant help but make you feel special, despite how silly it is. of course he wants to be able to hang out with you, hes your best friend. if he didnt, that would be more of an issue than anything else. “you could always just sneak through the window, you know.” you mutter without realizing. he snickers. “i dont think i play the role of knight in shining armor very well, but what the hell? im always willing to try new things.” he laughs at his own remark, completely oblivious to how much redder your face has gotten in the small amount of time youve been sweeping up the peas from the floor. it may be hot outside, but surely not that hot, right?

“well how about you go make yourself useful and get something less likely to… explode for us to cool off?” you quickly respond to change the subject. ryuji thinks for a second before grabbing his shoes, stating hell be right back. you feel a weight be lifted off your shoulders you were unaware of as soon as the door shuts behind him.

theres never been any kind of tension that youve noticed before between you and ryuji, so where did this random feeling come from? you cant help but feel different around him, has he always looked at you with such admiration and you just never noticed? with how hot your body is now you might as well shove yourself into the freezer.

putting the broom back you sit back on the couch noticing how empty the room really feels without ryuji there anymore. where had he even run off to anyways? you groan, noticing that the temperature had gone up another 2 degrees, before instantly feeling bad for sending ryuji out into town during the hottest part of the day. that was definitely a lapse in your judgement, but surely hed be fine with how quick he was to go along with it. unless he just wanted to get away from you? wait where did that thought come from? you cant help but internally sigh at how youve managed to make the situation even more awkward without him even being there.

after about another 5 minutes of sitting alone with your thoughts (terrifying, isnt it?) ryuji bursts through the front door with a grocery bag in his hands. “i dont know about you but i think some ice cream is the perfect thing right now!” your face drops the second you realize its dripping, presumably already melted from the trip back in the scorching sun. ryuji notices a second later, quickly dropping it outside by the front porch. you cant help but find his slightly pouting face adorable, and also totally heart wrenching. “you know, i think youre on the right track there with ice cream. how about we just go down to the convenience store together? im pretty sure ren is working there right now anyways. then we dont have to worry about anything melting!” 

ryuji was just about ready to give up on going anywhere else today, especially if it meant having to walk around again in the heat, but he couldnt resist the sweet smile on your face. hed do anything for you in a heartbeat if youd always look at him so sweetly. he was so caught up in his staring that he completely forgot to answer you, you having to snap your fingers in his face just to get him to come back down to earth, because surely when he was with you he was in heaven. “huh? oh! yeah, lets get going!”

you both ran to the train station, out of breath and sweaty by the time youd have reached shibuya. you almost gave ren a heart attack with the amount of noise caused by you and ryuji walking in to the convenience store. after almost getting him fired for talking way longer than he should have been, you and ryuji walk back to the station in no rush, eating your popsicles quietly. 

“what flavor did you get?” you ask ryuji as you stand waiting by the station. “cherry limeade, you wanna try?” he brings the popsicle closer to your face, assuming youd simply grab it in your own hand. what ryuji was not expecting, however, was for you to lean yourself closer to him, taking a lick of the popsicle while it was still held in his hand. his eyes turn wide like a rabbit would, incredibly surprised as you get closer to him, he swears he can feel the tingling electricity throughout his entire body. where did this boldness come from, and why are you so nonchalant about it? he can fell his ego deflating when his whole arm shakes after you pull away and lick your lips, the artificial fruit flavoring tasting cold yet electrifying. “ooh that ones super tasty!” you exclaim, and ryuji swears he sees your eyes shining.

your icy treat smells of the sweet ocean, like someones squeezed a freshly picked lemon into it. “do you wanna try mine? its blue lemonade.” you hold the popsicle up to him in the same way, but ryujis too nervous to even grab it out of your hand, let alone lean in like you had. “oh uhm… no thanks, im allergic to uh…. lemons?” he stammers out, leaning back a bit. you shrug. “more for me then!”

ryuji was sure it was getting even hotter outside, even though it was painfully obvious the sun would be setting soon. he tried not to make eye contact with you again, but the image of you staring at him so excitedly a moment ago was still fresh on his mind. 

he regrets when he gives in and looks over at you again, as youve gotten down to the bottom of the popsicle by now. hes even more surprised to see the way you take almost the whole stick into your mouth, and suck on the remaining of the icy treat. he feels his eyes travel down to your adams apple, watching it move as you swallow. he notices the mixture of sweat and fruit juice dripping down from your chin, which in any other situation he might have made fun of you for. suddenly hes more flustered than hes been all day, and cant help but look away suspiciously quick.

as soon as you turn to look at him, he feels much smaller under your gaze, unable to hide how much you affected him, without you even realizing. now you know its not just you whos been feeling the tension thicken more as today has dragged on. youre not sure what to say, or if you should even say anything. clearly theres something going on between the two of you, but neither of you are able to muster up enough courage to address it.

youre about ready to just say your goodbyes and make your way back home, but ryuji decides to speak up before you can act out your walk of shame. “hey y/n, have you noticed anything uhm, you know, weird between us recently?” he asks, you cant tell if youve ever heard ryuji sound so unsure before. you pretend to think for a moment before responding. “now that you mention it the air seems much hotter today, and thicker too.” you dont miss the way you see ryujis face heat up at that remark. he mentally curses for not having a way to hide the way the blush creeps up his neck and ears.

“yeah i think ive noticed that too. but i havent been able to put my finger on what exactly has been bugging me.” you, unlike some would say about ryuji, arent stupid. you both know that he knows whats going on here, but hes going to make you say it first. you hold back a sigh, something youve been doing a lot recently, and finally find the right words. “i think that theres… something going on between us, ryuji.” you dont dare raise your eyes from their look on the ground. you can see ryuji let out a breath of relief, he wasnt sure if you were actually going to go along with this. “yeah, i see what you mean… i uh, i mean i see it too.” he drags his foot against the pavement of the station square. your heart that points to him is a deep blue, like the sky before the storm clouds build, or the ocean on a late night stroll.

even if you swallow, your words fill up on the tip of your tongue, feeling so close to overflowing. “have you ever thought of us as more than friends?” you ask in such a low voice you werent sure if he would hear it, and ryuji almost didnt over the loud beating of his heartbeat. now what is he supposed to do? there was so hint in your tone of voice that you thought of him the same way. he wasnt even sure if you were nervous, for all he knew you were more uncomfortable than anything else. he struggles to think of an answer that wont totally humiliate himself and also not hurt your feelings. “well… i guess so, yeah.” he responds. he doesnt miss the way you tense up at his answer, and he feels his heart sink.

you finally look up at him, that same sweet look in your eyes from earlier, and suddenly he thinks that maybe its so bad he decided to be honest. “oh my god really? wow.. im so relieved!” you sigh out. ryuji thinks he likes that tone of your voice. “i honestly thought i was going crazy! like i never noticed just how… close we are until today! everything just seemed to click and i swear i dont even know where it came from but im starting to really like-” ryuji leans in closer to you, effectively shutting you up with a nervous kiss to you lips. you can feel him smirk against you when you melt into the kiss. you feel yourself return to the original soft blue youve grown to love the moment he embraces you.

reluctantly pulling away, ryuji wipes the excess popsicle off of his lips with the same stupid smile on his face. you stick your tongue out at him, showing now that your tongue is purple instead of blue, and that immediately wipes the confident expression on his face. youre starting to get used to seeing ryuji flustered and different shades of pink or red. you grab his hand, dragging him off to go catch your train. 

as the doors close behind you, youre suddenly reminded of what he said earlier. “wait a minute, i thought you said you were allergic to lemons!” he rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. “well i only said that because i was too nervous to.. you know, grab the popsicle out of your hand.” you cant help but laugh at him. “whats so funny? you act like if you were in my shoes you wouldn't have reacted the same way!” you shrug your shoulders. “summer isnt over yet, i guess well just have to wait and see until next time.”  he sighs, exasperated, before whispering under his breath “youre gonna be the death of me.” you smile at him. this is perfect, youd wish for nothing more, just the two of you. like this summer, it melts in your mouth like your feeling of love.

inspired by blue lemonade by red velvet , give it a listen if you havent before !

[rayshippouuchiha]

I'm so confused right now. I just need to unload a little, so there's a long rant incoming. Sorry Ray.

So: Months ago I wrote a comment on someone's reaction to AtLA episode 1x11 (the Great Divide), and I said something like "most people think this is the worst episode, but as you can see, it's perfectly fine. That just goes to show the high standards of this show :)".

Then yesterday some guy replies that he wants to know where I'm getting my info bc he "doesn't buy my claims" that most people think it's the worst episode, even demanding to see "actual data".

Now, I'm the kind of person who really dislikes having any animosity directed at me. Therefore, I apologized, acknowledged it was an over-generalization, and mentioned that I've just seen a ton of comments online about how it's the worst episode bc "no elements in it return later, and the message kinda winds up being 'if two groups don't get along lie until they do'". I also reiterated that I never said the episode was bad and I hated it, I called it "perfectly okay", I just personally think other episodes have more "substance". And I though that was the end of that.

But then the guy replies that I was making "bad faith readings" bc I was belittling? the actual message of the episode about the stupidity of generational violence, and that my claim that no elements return later was false bc the episode plants the seeds for Aang's conflict resolution abilities later in the show.

And I'm just like. Bro.

I made one comment ages ago mostly as a way to praise the show as a whole. Why are you having a go at me over this? Did I accidentally diss your favorite episode?? And why ME when I'm sure there must've been a bunch of comments saying "yeah, this episode is the worst, period"? Me, who only said "yeah this episode is pretty good still, despite being considered the worst in the series". I just. It doesn't compute for me.

And as for my "bad faith readings", the comment says right there "I've seen comments online" So I just agree with the statements, I didn't make them up myself. And I didn't expand on it bc I didn't want to write a 2 page dissertation on the squandered potential of episode 1x11 of ATLA in the youtube comment section, but I guess I have to go there now huh? Now I have to type out how I meant that no characters/items/knowledge/plot points acquired in this episode are explicitly relevant in later episodes, that I wish the united tribes had made a comeback at some point (maybe to help out during the Day of Black Sun), that the message would've been so much more powerful if the truce wasn't built on a lie that could get exposed at any moment, and that I didn't mean to belittle what the episode does accomplish, I just see a lot of wasted potential.

Look what you've done random internet guy, you've made me type out an entire Ted Talk on THE GREAT DIVIDE for heaven's sake. I hope you're happy.

I'm so tired oh my god please let this be the end of it this time

If he responds to you absolutely do not respond back. That's a troll. All that dude is really trying to do is get a reaction out of you, darling.

Don't feed the troll.

[phykios]

Five Times Percy Jackson Cheated At School (And One Time Someone Cheated Him) [read on ao3]

thank you as always to @darkmagyk for inspo and beta-ing 💙💙💙 and thank you to @arosnowflake for the homer idea!

1)

Percy squints at the paper prompt again, tilting his head, as if the new angle will extract some hidden information. It doesn’t change. The font is the special dyslexia-friendly one used by most departments at NRU, so he isn’t misreading it, either.

Your final will be an 8-10pp (TNR, 12pt, double-spaced) research paper expanding on one of the topics discussed in our class so far, or an alternate idea of your choosing, to be submitted in writing by May 7 with footnotes and bibliography. By 10am on the Wednesday before the Thursday class you will submit online a 750-word essay (word count does not include footnotes) on the research thread you have pursued that week (no written assignments due Week 6 or Week 12). 

Percy might hate college.

“Your neck bothering you again?” Annabeth asks, coming up behind him, her hands already on his shoulders. She’s sweaty, dressed in workout clothes, having just come back in from a jog. 

“My neck is fine,” he says. “Just preemptively freaking out over my Roman history final.”

He tilts his head back over the top of his chair, staring into the upside down, prettily frowning face of his girlfriend, and it does nothing to improve his mood.

“How bad is it?”

“Eight to ten pages,” Percy says, “not including footnotes.”

“Ouch.”

“And,” he grimaces, “it’s a topic of our choosing.”

Her mouth twists in sympathy. “Sucks.”

“Yep.”

“Anything I can do to help?” She squeezes his shoulders lightly, an open invitation. 

He shakes his head, stretching his arms back to grab her waist. “Promise not to break up with me when you catch me crying at 4AM over it.”

“Promise.” And she seals it with a kiss, bending down to reach him. “Dad wants to know if you’re free on the 16th.” 

“The 16th?” He wracks his brain. He’s pretty sure it doesn’t conflict with sailing, or Greek Club, or the monthly intra-pantheon relations council meeting that Chiron and Clarisse both guilted him into joining. “Pretty sure. Why?”

“Dinner--Charlotte’s out of town that weekend.”

“Sounds good.”

“Great, I’ll let him know. Now,” and she grins, “are you going to stare at that computer all day, or do you want to come and take a shower with me?”

Percy slams the computer shut. 

He doesn’t think about his paper topic for a while after that.

***

To his great dismay, Percy gets to her dad’s house first on the 16th. Drama in writing group 🙄 she texts him as he gets to the door, be there asap.

Great. Alone in the house with his girlfriend’s dad. Taking a deep breath, he knocks on the door. 

Not a minute later, Dr. Chase opens it. Last time they went to visit, Percy and Annabeth had ended up waiting outside for almost a quarter of an hour. “Oh, Percy,” he says, fumbling his flight helmet off his head. “Goodness, I thought I’d lost track of time again. Come in, come in.”

“Thanks,” Percy says, stepping inside and shedding his jacket. “Annabeth’s running late, but she said she’d be here soon.”

He frowns, looking so much like Annabeth that it throws Percy for several loops. “Well, that’s alright,” he says. “I’m sure we can entertain ourselves well enough until she gets here.”

“Yeah,” Percy chuckles, uneasy.

Several seconds pass. 

“Oh!” starts Dr. Chase. “Right, yes. Come in. Would you like something to drink?”

Spoiler alert: it doesn’t get much better.

A few minutes of staggered conversation later, it becomes eminently clear why they need Annabeth between them. It’s not the awkward small talk that doesn’t go anywhere (“How’s school going for you?” “It’s okay.” “Good, that’s good to hear.”) or the fact that Dr. Chase doesn’t really grasp how to relate to younger kids (“Have you heard of this website called ‘Vine’?”), but more that it’s just painfully obvious that the two of them don’t really know where they stand with each other. 

Now, he knows that Frederick Chase doesn’t hate him. Objectively, he’s aware of the fact that, if it weren’t for him, Annabeth never would have reconnected with her father in the first place, and he kind of owes him for that. Also, Percy knows that he’s a pretty chill guy--a little scatterbrained, but chill. 

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to make a good impression, though. Or that Dr. Chase thinks that Percy is smart enough for his daughter. Because, like, Percy isn’t smart enough for Annabeth--that much is obvious. Dr. Chase was courted by Athena. Percy barely made it out of high school calculus.

“Would you…” Dr. Chase hedges, plucking off his glasses and giving them a quick wipe with his shirtsleeve. “Would you like to see some of my current research?”

“Uh… sure. I’d love to.” 

At the very least, hopefully Dr. Chase will talk enough for the both of them, eating up time until Annabeth gets here.

A new spring in his step, Dr. Chase leads Percy to his study, where he’s got a setup worthy of Cabin Six: on his desk is a massive map of the Mediterranean, littered with miniatures of tanks, planes, and ships. Ringing the room are wall-hangings, depicting different types of planes, half of their structure in x-rays like people in an anatomy textbook, sandwiching the giant viking sword which hangs directly behind his chair. Every inch of floor space is occupied with a pile of books, some serving as additional desk space for mugs, notepads, spare toy soldiers, and, in one case, what looks like the leftovers of a handful of celestial bronze spearheads, melted down into shiny, useless nuggets. 

“You know I primarily study aviation,” Dr. Chase is saying, tidying up as he walks around the room, “but my colleagues and I are collaborating on an interdisciplinary re-evaluation of the entire North African theatre in World War II. It’s fascinating stuff; until very recently, they used to call it the ‘war without hate,’ given the lack of partisan roundups and, ah, ethnic clashes that you see in Europe--absolute garbage, of course. As if there weren’t civilians caught up in the fighting, too!” He chuckles, pleased at his own joke. Percy forces a laugh out of himself. “Anyway, with my prior experience studying the invasion of Sicily, I was brought on to assist in piecing the timeline together, working backwards from 1943.”

“Cool,” says Percy, filling the natural gap of conversation.

“Extremely! Operation Husky was a terrific endeavor of airborne, amphibious, and land-based combat.”

Percy nods. Amphibious? “Uh-huh.”

“Though, I must admit, I am having a little trouble retracing some of the ships.” Peering over his map, he leans down, fiddling with one of the ships. “You see this one here? The Palmer?”

Stepping up to the desk, Percy crouches down so the little toy ship is at eye level.

“Well, based on official records, the Palmer was supposed to have arrived at the rendezvous point at the same time as all the other ships, but ended up delayed by two days, and I can’t… quite…” He moves the ship again, frowning. “Figure out… why…” 

“Where were they sailing through?” Percy asks. 

Dr. Chase points to the map. “From Alexandria to Malta.” 

“They probably just hit a bad couple of currents,” Percy says, standing up. 

Tilting his head, Dr. Chase peers at him. “How do you mean?”

“If you’re going through the Cretan Passage, you’re going to hit all kinds of West-East currents which will push you backwards.” Snatching up a pencil from a nearby book stack, Percy lightly sketches on top of the map, tracing along the North African coast. “There are tons of overlapping currents in this area that push boats around in circles, especially around Sicily. That’s one of the reasons why so many historians figure that Homer was referring to the Strait of Messina when Odysseus goes through Scylla and Charybdis, here.” And he circles the strait, with a confident flourish.

When he pulls back, Dr. Chase is staring at him.

Percy blinks. “Um… sorry I drew on your map.”

“You--I have been trying to figure that out for weeks.”

He coughs, shrugging his shoulders. “Sorry.”

But Dr. Chase just laughs. “You can make it up to me by helping me with these next.” Clearing crumbs off of southern France, he bends over, pencil in hand. “So, say you were trying to get from Marseilles to Tunis…” 

Forty-five minutes later, still embroiled in battle recreations of the Mediterranean theatre, they don’t hear Annabeth letting herself in with her key, not even registering her presence until Dr. Chase, grasping for a notebook, spots her leaning against the doorway. “Don’t stop on my account.”

“Oh, Annabeth, dear! I’m sorry,” says Dr. Chase, going over to give her a hug. “We didn’t hear you come in.”

“I can see that,” she says. “What are you guys doing?”

“Percy here has been assisting me with naval movements,” he says, proudly.

Lacing her fingers with his, Annabeth steps over to Percy, studying their battle map. “Really?”

“Oh yes, he’s been phenomenally helpful.”

She kisses his cheek, pleased. “Look at you, Mr. ‘Phenomenally Helpful.’”

“It was pretty fun,” he admits, warm all over.

“I’d bet. Although, I guess this means we should probably order in for dinner…?”

Rubbing at the back of his neck, Dr. Chase smiles. “Yes, I suppose we should. Does pizza sound all right to you two?”

“Let me take care of it,” she says, slipping from Percy’s side. “You guys looked like you were in the middle of something. Extra olives, dad?”

“Don’t forget--”

“And anchovies, Percy, I know.” She rolls her eyes, taking out her phone.

Rather than the three of them move into the kitchen, Annabeth ends up bringing the pizza in with her, because of course she has opinions she’d like to share about the Allies’ naval movements. 

“You know, Percy,” says Dr. Chase, “I must say, you have a real knack for this kind of thing. Have you thought about what you might major in yet?”

Ah, the million drachmae question. “Not yet,” he says, fiddling with a pencil. “I figured I’d get through my gen eds first and then see which one I hated the least.” 

“I think you should consider majoring in history.”

Percy’s head snaps up. “History?”

“Specifically maritime history, I suppose. Your predisposition to sailing and ocean currents would be a huge asset to your research.”

“But--wouldn’t history have, like, a metric ton of required reading? I’m not really sure that’s my area.” He has a daughter with dyslexia and ADHD; surely he’d understand Percy’s hesitation.

But he just shakes his head. “Graduate programs these days are very favorable towards interdisciplinary methodology, I sincerely doubt you’d have to barricade yourself in the library. And recently there’s been a significant push to make the field more accessible to students with disabilities, including things like digitization, screen reading for people with vision impairments, and even restructuring programs all together so that students no longer have to memorize the Encyclopedia Britannica in order to pass their general exams.”

“That’s really nice of you to say, Dr. Chase,” Percy says, “But history class isn’t like talking over naval movements with you.” He thought back to the paper that had lowkey been haunting his dreams. “Like, in my classical history survey, I can’t just… talk about currents and battle plans. I have to come up with a topic on my own, and then write about that.” 

“Surely something involving Roman naval movements would be well within your skill set. You have a second sense about these things,” he chuckles, “clearly.”

Percy glances towards Annabeth, hoping she’ll back him up, but she looks thoughtful. Considering. Like she’s actually thinking about her dad’s proposal. “I can’t just choose something in naval history.”

“Why not?”

“Because… it's too easy?” 

If it was anything like his afternoon with Dr. Chase, it might even be fun. And school isn’t supposed to be fun. 

He repeats that thought to Annabeth as they drive home. “School isn’t supposed to be fun.” 

“No,” Annabeth agrees, “but I don’t know… I like my intro art history class way better than anything we ever did in high school because I actually care about it. Maybe if you write about stuff you’re good at, like my dad suggested, you’ll like it more.” 

The idea follows him all the way to bed, where he’s still mulling it over at 2 in the morning. Before he can chicken out, he grabs his phone, shooting off a quick email to his professor with his potential paper topic, then rolls over, eventually falling asleep.

By morning, he has a response. 

Sounds good! Looking forward to it.

***

With shaking hands, Percy calls his mom. “Yes?” 

“Hey mom.”

“Percy?” He hears her perk up, almost visualizing her sitting up in her chair. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

Mom instincts. They can always tell when something is different. His heart throbs in his chest. “Nothing’s wrong,” he says, smiling stretching across his face. “It’s just--I got my paper back.” 

Percy had ended up writing his paper about the Roman navy movements in the Battle of the Aegates in 241 BC. It was probably the most fun he’s ever had on a school assignment, or at least the most fun he’d ever had writing a paper. 

“And?” She sounds expectant, hopeful. His mom has always had such faith in him, even with thirteen years of schooling to prove her otherwise. 

He looks back at his email, just to make sure he’s reading it right. “I got an A.”

She gasps. He can hear the scrape of the chair as she stands up. “Percy, that’s wonderful!” 

“Thank you.”

“An A!”

He smiles into his fist, inordinately pleased. “Thank you.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I am so happy for you!”

“Thanks, mom.”

“I’m so proud of you, Percy.” Her voice is soft now, like twilights on the beach with blue marshmallows. “I know how hard you’ve worked for this. You should be very proud, too.”

“I am.” And he is, weirdly enough. “I just can’t believe it.”

“I can.” His mom must be grinning, her eyes sparkling. “I always knew you could do it.”

“Sally?” He hears in the background, muffled. “Is that Percy?”

“Paul, Percy got an A on his Roman history paper!”

A second voice crowds its way in, equally excited. “An A? That’s great, kiddo! Congratulations.”

Why can’t he stop smiling? “Thanks.”

“I bet that feels pretty good, doesn’t it?”

“It does.”

“Well, it is very well-deserved,” says Paul. “That was some great work you did. I could tell how passionate you were about your topic just from your first sentence.”

“Thank you.” Maybe he should be worried about all this praise going to his head, but damn, is it nice. “Listen, I have to go get started on dinner, but I just wanted to give you a call.”

“Of course,” says his mom. “I want to hear from you more, okay? Tell me more good news! Like when are you and Annabeth going to--”

“I’m working on it, okay?” says Percy, smiling even more broadly. “I’ll keep you posted, promise.”

She laughs, tinny and happy. “You’d better. Congratulations again, sweetheart.”

“Thanks mom. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” 

And he hangs up, puts his phone down on the table, tilts his head back, and sighs, full, happy, a release. 

Maybe college won’t be so bad after all. 

2)

“You don’t have to do this,” Frank says, hushed. “All you have to do is walk away.”

Five Greek Fire bombs, cloudy yellow, are lined up on the table in front of him, neatly laid out in front of five twenties. From the side, Frank stares him down, surrounded by an army of morbidly curious Romans. Someone turned off the music and turned on the lights a while ago, stopping the party in its tracks, every eye on Percy and his opponent. Figures, his first college party all year and he causes a scene. 

Percy grips the edge of the table. “He insulted the Mets,” he says for the millionth time. “I can’t let that shit stand.”

Frank sighs. “Annabeth?” he asks, hoping to stop this nonsense.

Turning to his side, Percy sees his girlfriend, two drinks in, her cheeks lightly flushed, but solid as she stands beside him, supporting him. Her eyes are hard, fierce, the warrior gaze of Athena all but leaping out of her. “Do it,” she says. 

William, the sour-faced Roman legacy of Juventus, scowls. “A hundred bucks on the table. Sixty seconds. No throwing them back up.”

“Deal.”

“Frank,” Annabeth calls. “Start the clock.”

He sighs. “You guys are idiots.”

“Frank!”

“Okay, okay.” He holds out his phone, thumb primed, hovering over the screen. “On your marks, in three… two… one…” 

He hits zero, and Percy grabs a shot glass. Squeezing his eyes shut, he brings it to his lips, and throws it back.

It’s… not what he expected.

The tequila is awful--no getting around that. Even to Percy’s untrained taste buds, having really only ever had some of Gabe’s sour beer (under duress) and some of the Demeter cabin’s strawberry wine (on his eighteenth birthday, a celebration for actually getting to graduate high school), he can tell it’s cheap, rank, unrefined shit, like he’s drinking straight toilet cleaner. But the garum, the weird Roman condiment that the shot is mixed with, the one that Percy had never heard of before, it’s… it almost tastes like the fish sauce that comes with the pork and rice noodles from the Vietnamese place down the corner of his mom’s apartment, only less… fishy? Yeah. Less fishy.

It’s a weird taste. It’s not bad, by any means, it just--straight up, it just tastes like saltwater. Like the sea. 

And, well. Percy can handle the sea.

He looks at William, and grins. “You are so fucked.”

The assembled Romans cheer, spectators at a gladiator show, as Percy knocks back the rest of the Greek Fire bombs, one after another, clearing them all in under thirty seconds. Annabeth swipes up the cash, shrieking as she throws her arms around Percy. William wanders off, red-faced and glaring, as whoever turned the music off before flips it back on, the night, and the party, saved.

Silly Percy. He should have known what was coming next.

Thirty minutes later, he is well and truly wasted.

“You’re, like, really pretty,” he shouts at Annabeth over the loud music.

She snorts, grinning at him. “Thanks.”

“Seriously,” he slurs, tipping forward on his feet. “You could be a model.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Remember when we were fourteen,” he yells, bracing himself against the wall, “and you got kidnapped by that monster?” Slightly soberer but still a little flushed, she bites her lip, nodding. “Well, I followed the rescue party--I told you that, that I snuck out of camp to follow the rescue party? Right?” 

“You did.”

He takes a sip of water, running his tongue around the inside of his mouth. Feels goofy as fuck. “We got hijacked by Aphrodite halfway through, and when I saw her, I thought--I thought, ‘Holy shit, she looks a little like Annabeth.’”

Her brows shoot up, smile pulling at her lips. “Really?”

He nods. “Totally! But you’re way, way p--” 

Still smiling, she silences him with a kiss, the lingering taste of hard cider on her tongue. “I appreciate it,” she murmurs, grinning, “but you probably shouldn’t say that out loud.”

“Gross.”

From out of nowhere, like he always does, the weasley little shit, Nico di Angelo is suddenly in their space, looking surly and emo as ever, red solo cup in his left hand. “Nico!” Percy crows, grabbing for him and missing. “How’s my favorite cousin?!”

Ducking his wildly swinging limbs, Nico grimaces in the way that Percy has to come to recognize as his attempt at a smile. “Better’n you,” he says, a little wobbly. “What’s up with him?” he directs towards Annabeth.

“Greek Fire bombs. Five.”

“You’re a psychopath.”

“What!” Percy pouts. “He insulted the Mets.”

“Aren’t you s’posed to be, like…” Nico snaps his fingers, words momentarily escaping him. “A--representation… person? For the Greeks?”

Percy waves his hand, hitting the wall. “Fuck that. The Greeks can handle themselves. The Mets are sacred!”

“Are you with anyone?” Annabeth asks, momentarily taking up Percy’s usual role of concerned parent friend while he is drunk off his ass. Theoi, he loves this girl so much. 

Nico shakes his head. “No, but Will and I are staying with--”

A thought suddenly blooms in Percy’s tequila-soaked brain. “Nico!” He shouts.

“What?” he hisses, glaring.

Percy pushes himself off of the wall, outstretched arms managing to box Nico in, falling on his shoulders and trapping him. He’s still a short, skinny little shit, the fuck, when are his Big Three genes going to kick in? “I need to talk to you about the thing.”

“The what?”

“The thing! The--the,” then he leans in, scream-whispering over the pounding bassline. “The thing.”

“That doesn’t help.”

“You know, it’s…” Percy licks his lips, language escaping him for a hot second. “Round. Metal. Jewelry thing.”

A beat, then Nico’s eyes widen. “Oh, that thing.”

“Yes, that thing!” Pulling back, he pulls Nico towards him, slinging an arm over his shoulders in a half-headlock. Annabeth watches, bemused, lips pursed as she tries not to smile. “I need to borrow Nico for a sec,” he says, words spilling out of him. “Back soon. Later. Soon.”

Her eyes crinkle, grey sparkling. She’s so fucking pretty. “Drink your water.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Then together, like some three-legged beast, the two boys lurch away deeper into the party, Nico leading them towards the kitchen. “Where’re you taking me?” Percy slurs. “‘M I being kidnapped again?”

“If I’m helping you plan out this stupid proposal,” he grumbles, pouring himself more vodka, “then I need to be less sober.”

***

Some mistakes may have been made.

“Where’s Annabeth?” Percy mumbles, looking back towards the house. The party is still raging, someone’s muffled Spotify playlist making a real racket, the greatest hits of ABBA still bouncing around his skull.

“Simp.” Nico, swaying a little, tries to stand up from his kneeling position, only to fall heavily back down on his knees. “She’s right where you left her.”

Discussing Percy's proposal plan had led to more drinking. More drinking had led to the two of them discussing their shared preference for blondes. (“Malcolm is pretty cute,” Nico admitted, flushing, and Percy almost screamed, “Isn’t he?! Sometimes I think about Annabeth with short hair looking like Malcolm and I almost start crying because she’d be so cute!”) Which then led to even more drinking. Which then led to general bitching about their lives, about Percy's hard-ass classics professor Dr. Bauer who he actually really liked but just pushed him so hard and expected so much of him, and Nico's half-brother Zagreus who was causing some family drama by picking fights with Hades all the time and also hooking up with both Thanatos AND the fury Megaera, which, ew, which then led to Percy inhaling his drink, nearly choking to death on unspecified college punch, Nico laughing at him all the while, as he had the most incredible idea.

"Nico!" He shouted, crushing the red solo cup. "Can you resurrect Homer for me?"

Nico gaped, staring. "What."

"Seriously! I need to ask him something for my paper."

"Percy." Nico gazed at him, all the power of the Ghost King boring into his soul, deep and haunting. Percy stifled a burp. "You're a fucking genius."

Which is how they found themselves around a shallow hole they had dug in the backyard, a large bottle of Pepsi originally intended as a mixer pilfered from the kitchen along with two slices of pepperoni pizza dumped on the grass beside them.

"Maybe we shouldn't do this," he says, uneasy even through his drunken haze.

"It was your idea!"

"I don't have good ideas."

“Fuck you, I’m doing it.” With all the force of a tiny, angry kitten, he snatches up the Pepsi bottle, wrestling with the twist cap for a good ten seconds. “I wanna give that bitch a piece of my mind for making me cry in school.”

Percy looks at him sideways. “Hector killing Patroclus got you, too?”

He snorts. “Fuck no. Achilles didn’t pay his dues to the dead.”

“Seriously?”

The cap pops off, and Nico tips the bottle over, dumping flat, lukewarm soda into the shallow hole. “It’s the ultimate dishonor!”

Freak. Percy would die for the kid.

“Let the dead taste again,” Nico mutters. “Let them rise and take this offering. Let them remember.”

“You’re so weird.”

“Says the guy who’s related to both horses and water.”

“I’m not related to water, I just control it.” 

The dirt turns black, dead soil mixed with sticky sugar water. Nico drops in the pizza, and begins to chant, that same ancient Greek that Percy heard in a dream once, talking of death and memories and returning from the grave or whatever. It’s still creepy as shit. 

Despite the warm California night, the air thickens with chilly fog. Silence, impenetrable, surrounds them, blocking out the noises of the party. From the earth, blueish, vaguely person-shaped figures begin to form, like thunderous clouds before a storm. “Which one is Homer?” he asks, hushed.

“Shh!” Nico hisses. 

Like little wells of gravity, the fog begins to coalesce. On one of them, Percy can almost make out, like, fingers. “Um, Mr. Homer? Sir?”

The figure doesn’t say anything. It lowers its mouth, drinking the soda out of the dirt. When it raises its head, Percy can see it more clearly, curly hair and milky white eyes and a straight nose. It--he?--seems a little more solid than your average run-of-the-mill ghost.

Nico frowns, eyes closed, concentrating. “What’s your name?” he mumbles. 

That mouth opens, soundlessly, jaw working on nothing.

“Speak.”

It--there’s a sound, like hissing, only it’s not coming from the mouth, Percy thinks. It sounds like it’s coming from the earth. “Nico?” he asks. “You good?”

The ghost opens its mouth again, moaning, raising its hands. Weakly, unsteadily, it stumbles forward on feeble legs, tripping over the shallow hole in the dirt.

“Nico?” he asks again, a little more forcefully. “What’s going on, dude?”

Nico blinks, slowly, mouth hanging open a little. “Uh.”

The… thing… raises itself up on its hands? He guesses, and knees, crawling its way over towards them.

Now, Percy may be drunk off his ass, but he has seen enough movies to know exactly what the fuck is up.

Moving with a speed he didn’t quite think was possible right about now, he grabs Nico’s wrist, and pulls him up, dragging him along as he lurches towards the house. “Percy…” Nico moans, stumbling over a rock. “I think I fucked up.”

“You think?” Percy wrenches the door open, tossing Nico inside, before following in after, throwing himself against the door. 

Nico groans, throwing his arms over his face. “Dio santo, my head.”

“Forget your head,” he says, “did we just raise a Homer zombie?!”

Panting, Nico stares up at him, sprawled on the floor of the house. “Oops.”

Percy thunks his head against the door. He does not have nearly enough mental capacity to deal with this right now.

But, he thinks ruefully, at least it’s just one. Even drunk, he’s pretty sure he can handle one zombie.

Nico’s eyes widen. 

Percy stares. “What.”

“I didn’t stop the ritual.”

His stomach goes cold.

Turning around slowly, he pulls aside the little curtain on the window. “What?” Nico asks. “What do you see?”

Percy can’t speak, mouth dry.

Slithering up behind, Nico peers over his shoulder. “That’s… not great.”

“Nico,” Percy says, eyeing the horde which slowly shambles closer, half-decayed bodies in togas bumping into each other, almost identical to the drunk college students inside, as the song changes, once again, to ‘Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight).’ “Please go get Frank and Annabeth.”

The following Monday, an announcement is sent out to the entire campus: Per new department guidelines, students may not utilize the ambassador of Pluto to interview the dead for academic purposes.

3)

Percy attempts to flatten his hair. He readjusts his shirt. He almost wipes his sweaty palms on his pants, before he realizes what he’s doing, and clenches them instead, nails digging into his palms. He turns to Annabeth. “Do I look okay?”

“Ooh, ‘Mapping Funerary Monuments in the Periphery of Imperial Rome.’”

“Annabeth.”

She looks up from her brochure. “Relax, seaweed brain, you look fine. You look better than most people here.”

“That’s because I bring down the average age of presenters by about thirty years,” he hisses, eyes darting about at the milling mass of attendees, all packed into the hotel ballroom. 

Dr. Bauer had alternately convinced/pressured/guilttripped him into attending this year’s annual conference for the Society of Classical Studies to talk about the research he’d been doing with her. This year, the conference was held in San Francisco, so at the very least Percy didn’t have to spend five hours stressing about his poster presentation while simultaneously up in the air. But now that he’s here, in the ballroom, surrounded by strangers who know way more about this subject than he does, who are actually smart and probably never nearly flunked out of school or got kicked out or--

“Hey.” Annabeth takes his hand. “I know that look. You deserve to be here just as much as any of them.”

“Do I? I feel like any moment someone is going to come over and throw me out for trespassing.” He vaguely recalls something similar happening to him as a kid after he had ducked into the lobby of a semi-nice hotel to dodge what he had thought, at the time, was just a weird stalker, but had later realized had only had one eye. In any case, the hotel security guard had practically picked him up by the scruff of his neck, tossing him back out into the street. 

“That’s just your imposter syndrome talking,” she reassures him. “No one is going to throw you out.”

He sure as shit hopes so. It would be a shame to have done all this work for nothing. 

Glancing back at his poster, Percy can’t help but feel… good. Accomplished. Proud. About a school assignment, of all things. 

His poster traces the development of the prow from the Greek penteconter, to the Roman liburna, and finally to the Byzantine dromon, looking at artistic depictions in history. Percy had picked the topic himself, spending hours in the library reading, writing, and hand-drawing cross-sections of the ships on the poster board when the images he had gotten from the Cambridge University library had been too small. It had been grueling, frustrating work, but fun, too. And not nearly as much reading as he had feared.

Dr. Chase proofread it for him. Dr. Bauer signed off on it. And Annabeth had taken one look at it, smiled, then kissed his cheek.

That was the best compliment he had gotten.

Though now he’s kind of torn between showing it off and hiding it away before one of these attendees figures out that he doesn’t belong.

He rocks back and forth and his feet, pursing his lips, randomly clicking his tongue. Annabeth nudges him. “Your ADHD is showing.”

That’s when, finally, one of the attendees steps up to his poster. He certainly has the look of a professor, in a black cable knit sweater with grey, curly hair and a receding hairline, thin, rimless glasses perched on his nose. He squints at Percy’s poster, rubbing his chin with one hand. “Interesting,” he murmurs, in a thick German accent. “Very interesting. This is yours?”

“Um.” He glances at Annabeth, who is frowning at the brochure, silently sounding out words that she can’t read. “Yep. All mine.”

“Very interesting.” He leans in closer, tilting his head. “So you agree with Pryor and Jeffreys about the skeleton-first construction, then?”

Percy blinks. Pryor and Jeffreys had written The Age of the Dromon, arguing that the ram, which had been a key feature of Roman liburnians, had gone away in ancient ship construction because of developments in how they built the hull. Right. “Yes,” he says. “The skeleton-first construction is a lot stronger than the, um,” shit, what was the name for this, Leo had only told him about a million times--oh! “Mortise-and-tenon!” He nearly shrieks. “The mortise-and-tenon method. It, um, it wears out a lot more quickly than the frame, so… yeah.” He clears his throat.

He nods. “Very interesting.” 

Percy stares. Can this guy say anything else? 

“This is very well done, young man.”

Oh. “Thank you,” he says. 

“Who are you working with?” 

“Um, June Bauer?” He winces at the accidental question. 

He frowns. “I’m not familiar with her work. Where does she teach?” 

What a loaded question. “Uh… New Rome University.”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s--she used to teach at Northwestern, if that helps. Um, retired,” Percy says.

The frown stays, but at least he doesn’t ask any more questions. “Hmm. Well, this is excellent research, nonetheless. I look forward to reading your dissertation.” Then, distracted by something else, he wanders off, chin still attached to his hand. 

“Who was that?” Annabeth asks. 

Percy shrugs. “Beats me. Also, what’s a dissertation?”

“It’s like a senior thesis, but, like, five hundred pages long.”

Five hundred?! “Fuck me.” 

“Maybe later,” Annabeth smirks. “It looks like you’ve got company.”

Sure enough, a smallish group of four people are approaching, led by Dr. Chase, making a beeline straight for them. “Here we are,” Dr. Chase says, gesturing. “This is the project I was telling you about. Percy, would you mind going over your poster for us?”

“No problem, Dr. C,” says Percy, smiling his least-grimace-y smile. 

As one, the adults all turn to look at him, faces politely blank, expectant.

Percy swallows. “So,” he begins, “um, this research is about the development of ship construction in the Roman empire…”

He trips up on some of the words, and at one point, he sees Dr. Chase squint in the way that usually means that Percy is speaking too fast, but all in all, he doesn’t totally fall flat on his face. His audience looks engaged, nodding along as Percy moves from point to point, and no one accuses him of being a giant fraud, which is pretty nice. 

At one point, Percy turns to the poster to indicate a specific point on his ship diagrams. When he turns back, his audience has suddenly multiplied, four people turning into a whole goddamn crowd. Each person gives him their undivided attention almost unblinking.

His mouth goes dry. “Um…” 

Dr. Chase, bless him, saves his ass once again. “Would mind starting again from the beginning, Percy?” he asks, a little bemused himself at the amount of people that had suddenly appeared. 

Silence stretches on for a moment, the muffled noise of the rest of the conference like a dull roar in his ear. 

Annabeth, behind him, coughs. 

“S-sure. No problem.” 

Swallowing, he closes his eyes, breathing in through his nose. Why, oh why did he let Dr. Bauer talk him into doing this again?

He pictures the tides of Long Island Sound, gentle and rocking, unhurried and unbothered, tries to match his breathing to them. When he opens his eyes, unfortunately, the crowd hasn’t disappeared. Everyone is still staring at him. 

But Annabeth stands next to her dad, flashing him a big smile and two huge thumbs up.

Percy relaxes. He’s got this.

“Okay,” he says. “So, about the middle of the first millennium CE, ship construction went through a couple of major developments…”

This time goes much, much more smoothly. He’s not sure what it is--though it’s probably Annabeth, her face fixed in a gentle smile as she watches him speak. Gods, what did he do in a past life to deserve someone as amazing as his girlfriend? 

That’s the only reason he can do this. Hell, that’s the only reason he even thought to do this. If he didn’t have Annabeth there, encouraging him, cheering him on, he never would have had the confidence to put himself out there like this. She’s there to pick him up when he doubts himself, there to listen when he can’t explain himself, there to give him feedback when he needs to practice. 

She makes him feel so strong. She makes him feel like he can take on the world--or at the very least, that he can impress a handful of academics.

And they certainly seem impressed with his talk so far. 

“Excuse me,” says a nasally, pinched looking older British guy, face lined as though he lived his life in a state of perpetual squinting. “I find your conclusions to be suspect--wouldn’t the frame method be more susceptible to breaking than the mortise-and-tenon?”

Well, most of them, anyway.

Percy shakes his head. “You’d think, but no. If you look at the study by Steffy, you’ll see that the three-finned ram from the Athlit wreck was designed specifically to break the mortise-and-tenon hull by causing the planks to flex, so that they’d dislodge the joinerys right next to them. A blow like that can cause the wood to split right down the middle.” A blow like that had sunk Sherman Yang’s ship when they tested it out on the lake at camp last summer, the naiads practically hurling him out of the water so quickly Percy didn’t even have to dive in to save him.

“How were you able to do these strength tests?” asks another listener, an older woman with a thick Hungarian accent.

“Hands-on battle simulations,” Percy replies, easily. “We took our models and tested them in as accurate a simulation as we could make.”

“And how big were these models?” 

Percy holds his hands apart, a vague, entirely inaccurate estimate. “About thirty meters, give or take.”

Her eyes widen. “How on earth did you get your hands on such a large ship?”

Percy freezes. “Uh.”

Oh, shit.

He had forgotten--most people didn’t have dads who could summon shipwrecks from the bottom of the sea, dropping them off at Camp Half-Blood with nothing but a sand dollar and one or two exhausted, pissed off hippocampi who had had to drag them all the way there.

“Um,” he stammers, licking his lips, thinking fast--c’mon, Percy, think! “I…” He swallows, panicking. “I… b… built one.”

In the corner of his eye, Annabeth facepalms.

Simultaneously, every mouth in the crowd drops--in shock, outrage, and even excitement. “You built one?!” the woman yelps. 

Oops. “I had help,” Percy says, quickly. 

Annabeth adds a second hand to her facepalm.

“Where?” The first man asks, his bushy brows flying above the rim of his glasses.

“At my… summer camp…” 

Dr. Chase sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I mean,” Percy chuckles, shrugging his shoulders, trying not to sweat too obviously, “it was either that or lanyards, am I right?”

Dr. Chase, thank Athena, raises his hand, ready to step in. “What Percy means to say, I believe,” he says, attempting to draw their attention, “is that--”

“That’s amazing!” says another woman, probably a grad student attendee based on the fact that she’s wearing jeans. “Do you have pictures?”

Oh this is not good. “Um, not--not on me, but--”

“I do.” Annabeth takes out her phone, holding it up to the person next to her.

Percy blinks. “You do?” He doesn’t remember her taking any pictures.

She shoots him a look, two parts exasperated and one part “shut up and let me handle this,” with just a dash of fondness in the mix. Pointedly, she looks at him, eyebrows raised, indicating that he should continue.

Oh. She’s using Mist. And he needs to keep their attention on him so that they buy it. “Right,” he says, clearing his throat. “Any more questions?” 

His audience placated for now, passing around Annabeth’s phone, he manages to finish up his presentation. After fielding a few more questions, people start to peel off, distracted by other posters and presenters in the ballroom. When everyone has finally wandered away, Dr. Chase comes up and pats Percy’s shoulder awkwardly. “Nice work,” he says, and he seems like he means it. “A little touch-and-go there for a while, hm?”

“A little.”

He chuckles. “Still, you should be proud. I don’t know how many undergraduates would be able to handle that kind of pressure.”

“I mean,” Percy says, shrugging a shoulder, “it’s about on par with leading an army. Maybe a little less.” Honestly, maybe even a little more stressful. If a monster had decided to attack the convention center and interrupt his presentation, he probably would have been relieved.

He’d been worried for a moment that he’d undone all those years of work in making Annabeth’s dad like him. And that he’d be charged with some sort of academic fraud, for the whole “I have a boat” thing without proof. Thank the gods for Annabeth, as always.

She’s looking at him now through narrowed eyes. She at least can’t be surprised--that was far from the dumbest thing she’s ever seen him do. At least his “I spent most of my time at magic greek mythology summer camp” covers are normally better than hers. As someone who spent his formative years in the real world, he’s usually pretty good at keeping the demigod thing under wraps. 

“Come on,” she says, grabbing his hand. She pulls him off, through the dispersing crowd, lacing their fingers together, sweet and intimate, out of the hall and then down another one, and through a smaller corridor. Bringing them up to a little door, with a shake of her wrist, she pulls out her Estruscan keyring bracelet. About several of the keys have found themselves used in various misadventures, vanishing once their purpose is fulfilled, but her favorite key is still there. And, just like a clever child of Hermes, it can pick just about any lock. 

Inside is just an empty room, a little staging area surrounded by tiered desks going up, no more or less remarkable than any of the other conference rooms they’d visited before. 

“What--?” His question is cut off by Annabeth’s mouth on his. 

Surprising, but definitely not unwelcome.

It's a while before they separate again. “You’re so good at this,” she tells him, unbuttoning his shirt.

He runs his hands along the lines of her flanks. “I’ve had a lot of practice,” he grins. He’d practice kissing her all day long if he could. 

She smiles, shaking her head. “No, not this,” though she does lean in for another kiss, pulling at his lower lip with her teeth. “I know you’re good at this.” They break away, Percy pulling her shirt over her head, Annabeth shucking off his. “But history. Presenting.” She runs a finger over his chest, kissing his cheek, headed towards the sensitive spot on his jaw. “Gods, you’re so smart.” 

Something about the praise vibrates through his chest. She doesn’t sound surprised, or anything, just--turned on.

“You had all those crusty academics eating out of your hand. Just, so impressed by you, knowing you know way more than they do about naval history. When you were explaining the--” Her compliment is cut off with a moan, as he leans down and starts sucking on her throat. Her blouse has a high neck, so he feels no guilt for using his teeth.  

“Watching you today, gods.” Her breath is labored as his fingers play at the waistline of her skirt. “And then thinking of you defending your dissertation.” He bites at her jugular, and she lets out a long, deep moan. 

“I don’t know what that means.” Do academics fight each other? Like, with weapons? He’s pretty sure he can take most of the people he met today. 

“It means you get to show off how smart you are,” Annabeth says, grasping his shoulders, pulling him in for another kiss. “I was born the day my dad defended his. Gods, it's going to be amazing to watch you go.” She yanks his belt out of his pants, tossing it to the floor. 

They miss the panel on recent translation efforts. But Percy can’t say he minds one bit. 

And when Annabeth presents him with a positive pregnancy test two months later, Percy definitely knows he made the right decision. 

4) 

He almost doesn’t realize he’s having a dream-vision at first.

It has been literal years since he’s had a demigod dream. Hell, it’s been a long while since he’s had a dream, period--being a new dad to a one-and-a-half-year-old saps too much of his energy to even think about dreaming. Once Junie is put to bed, when he’s out, he is fucking out, and he does not have the brainpower to spare to manifest any messed up subconscious fears.

Which is why when he blinks open his eyes, taking in the too-bright colors of the Parthenon and the gleaming shine of the bronze statues which are somehow all looking at him--also, you know, how the Parthenon is complete, standing as it did thousands of years ago, and not crumbled into ruins--he knows, immediately, he is being contacted by a god.

And only one god in particular would bring him to Athens.

Without even checking, he heaves himself up off the ground, folding into a kneel. “My lady Athena,” he says, “can I ask for what quest you’ve brought me here?”

“Impertinent as ever, Percy Jackson,” rumbles the goddess, but Percy doesn’t think he can sense any ill will towards him. He hopes, anyway. “Perhaps I have summoned you here for a social visit.”

“Perhaps,” he says, choosing his next words as carefully as possible. “But I assume you have too much to worry about to randomly check up on your daughter’s boyfriend.”

He lifts his head, catching her expression--stoic as always, but maybe with just the barest hint of a smile. “You assume correctly. You have become, contrary to my initial expectations, very wise in the time that I have known you.”

“Thank you.” He knows better than to do anything but accept the compliment for what it is.

“I have observed your work as a scholar in recent years, and I must say that I am surprised, yet pleased, that you have chosen to pursue such a path. I had not thought you to be suited for a world of old men and dusty papers.”

He grits his teeth. Don’t rise to the bait, don’t rise to the bait, don’t rise to the bait--

“I understand, as well, that though you and my daughter have,” and here her careful composition cracks, just the slightest, the tiny lift of her lips falling, “made a child together.”

Percy swallows. He figured, you know, in the abstract, that Athena would know about Junie, but hearing her say it out loud is… well, he’s just glad that Dr. Chase has always liked him. “Yes, my lady.”

“It is customary in your time to marry prior to childbirth, is it not?”

“It is.” Oh, fuck, is she going to smite him for that? “I--that is to say, we, Annabeth and I, we, um, we definitely want to get married, but, Annabeth kind of…” 

He trails off. He can’t tell Athena, goddess of war, that his daughter pissed off the queen of heaven! And if he does, he definitely can’t imply that it was because she was being too stubborn!

“I know well of my daughter’s history with my father’s wife,” Athena says, smoothly. “I come to you now with an offer of peace.”

Percy straightens his back. Peace?

Raising one graceful arm, Athena turns, indicating the structure behind her. “Look upon my temple,” she intones. The white marble shines even more powerfully against the blue and red paint, intricate scenes and figures ringing the top of the columns. “In the time of Pericles, it was built to commemorate the victory of Hellas over the armies of Xerxes the Great. It was to be the shining beacon of our world, a triumph of our power and influence over the race of men.”

The race of men might have had something to say about that, he thinks to himself.

“But it was not to be,” Athena says, mournfully. “As our influence waned, so too did our temple, until its might was all but forgotten.” 

Before his eyes, the paint fades away, ceilings and columns collapsing, the destruction of the Parthenon playing out in front of him. 

“Some two hundred years ago,” she says, her voice taking on a darker, more dangerous tone, “a grave insult was paid to the ruins of my ancient sanctuary.” Like curtains falling on a stage, darkness swallowed up the structure, swift and impenetrable. “Many treasures were taken from my temple, stolen, by foolish, greedy men, spirited away far to the north, where they have languished in unworthy hands.”

He narrows his eyes. She can’t possibly be talking about--

Athena turns back to him, her eyes blazing, somehow twice as tall. “Retrieve my treasures,” she commands, war personified, “return the prizes of Athens to their rightful place, and I shall give you my support against my father’s wife.”

“You…” Percy leans back on his haunches, staring dumbfounded up at the goddess. “You don’t happen to mean the Parthenon Marbles, do you?”

“Yes.”

“The ones in the British Museum.”

“The same,” she says, imperious as ever.

Fantastic. “Welp,” Percy says, slapping his thighs, scrambling up. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll have to decline. Nice seeing you, by the way. I’ll tell Annabeth you stopped by.”

Her sharp gazes pierces him, full of fury. “You dare to refuse my support?”

He snorts. “When it means trying to get the UK to give the marbles back, absolutely. Do you know how stubborn they are about this?”

Lightning flashes behind her, nearly blinding him. “You will regret this,” Athena says, dark and foreboding. “You may have your father’s goodwill, but the queen of Olympus is clever and cunning, her displeasure swift and merciless.”

But Percy still shakes his head. “When Annabeth and I get married,” and it’s definitely a ‘when,’ it’s just a matter of when precisely, like after Junie can sleep through the night maybe, “I’d rather take my chances with Hera than try and untangle that particular can of olives.”

A growl, and a snap of her fingers, and Athena disappears.

With a start, Percy wakes up. Junie had gotten her chubby little hands around his nose, and had decided to pull.

“Ow, ow, Junie, hey,” he squawks, attempting to dislodge her grip from his face. “Hey, I’m awake, it’s okay.”

She laughs, illegally adorable, her grey eyes sparkling, squeezing harder. 

“Okay, okay,” he laughs along with her. “You got my nose, you win.”

As if she were waiting for him to admit defeat, she lets go, clapping her pudgy toddler hands together. 

“That’s right,” he picks her up, raising her above his head. “Barely sixteen months old and you already know how to take me down, don’t you? Just like your mommy.”

She smiles, waving her little fists.

Gods he loves this little monster.

Junie really is the best parts of both of them. She’s got her daddy’s hair but her mommy’s brain, quick and sharp and painfully adorable. She’s already learning to read Greek, Annabeth sitting her in her lap and sounding out vowels together, Annabeth taking her finger and tracing it over the letter shapes. This kid absorbs information like a sponge, which Percy can only assume is the natural conclusion of taking a son of Poseidon and a daughter of Athena and mixing their DNA together. 

Thinking about his dream, he frowns. “What do you think, Junie,” he asks his toddler. “Should I take her up on her offer?”

The baby says nothing.

“I mean,” he tilts his head, “Greece has been trying to get the marbles back for two hundred years. UNESCO has top lawyers on this. What does Athena think I can do?”

Junie blinks at him.

“On the other hand, I do really love your mom,” he admits, “and I really want to marry her. You’d like that, right? To have your parents be married?”

There’s no way she can understand what he’s saying, but she moves her head like she’s nodding. Or maybe she does understand. She is Annabeth’s daughter after all. 

Percy sighs. Dammit.

Time for a new project, he guesses.

***

Several months, a college graduation, and one relocation to Boston later, Percy growls, hurling his pencil at the wall. Mother fucker. Fuck the British Museum, fuck his tiny laptop screen, and fuck the Italian prick who decided to have the least ADHD-friendly handwriting of all time. 

Why the hell is he doing this again? Like, seriously. Why in all of Hades is he, an inexperienced, snot-nosed, first year master’s student deciding to tackle the return of the fucking Parthenon marbles of all things. Like, what is wrong with him? 

Roughly scrubbing his fingers through his hair, Percy stands up. He has to go for a walk, clear his head, or he might actually explode. 

Then he catches a glimpse of the photo pinned to the fridge.

Percy’s mom had taken it, a candid of Percy and Annabeth and Junie on a sunny day in Central Park. There, in perfect 1080p, Junie is laughing, at what he can’t even remember, her pudgy fists yanking on Percy’s hair, while her mother and the love of his life does nothing to extricate Percy from her grip, her face screwed up so hard she had tears in her eyes. 

Percy had talked a lot of shit to the goddess of war’s face, but truth be told… Hera still terrifies him a little. Which, he assumes, was her goal all along, but it would be nice to marry Annabeth without fear of something going terribly wrong--or, gods forbid, something happening to Junie. That simply was not a risk he was willing to take. Percy is content to spend the rest of his days as Annabeth’s life-partner and roommate, if it means that the queen of the heavens won’t have a reason to take out her issues on his children.

Even if the engagement ring in the back of the pantry is gathering dust. 

Sunlight, wan but warm, falls in from the window, landing perfectly on his pile of open books. “I know, I know,” he growls, speaking to the air, rubbing his face so it doesn’t get stuck in a permanent glare. “I just--I just need a few minutes, okay? Let me go down the block and get a coffee or something. Two minutes, Lady Athena.”

The light fades. Percy takes that as an acquiescence, angrily scribbling a note. He’s not sure when Annabeth and Junie will be back, but even angry as he is, he doesn’t want to worry them.

Snatching up his jacket, he slams the door shut, stomping out of his apartment building and down the streets of Boston. He must be accidentally doing his wolf stare, because people are practically flinging themselves out of his path as he hurtles down the sidewalk. Literally--some girl is walking her husky, and the poor dog actually whimpers, cowering as Percy rounds the corner. 

Coming to a stop, Percy slaps his hands over his face, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath. 

He might be in over his head a little.

Sighing, he looks to his right. He’s standing outside of a Starbucks. 

Percy doesn’t drink coffee, Annabeth does. And he knows exactly how much of a coffee snob his girlfriend is. Starbucks? Overpriced, overrated, over-sweetened garbage.

He pushes the door open, sliding up to the counter. “I’ll take a… iced mocha, I guess,” he says. “Large.”

“No problem,” chirps the barista. “I’ll have that out for you in a minute.”

“Thanks,” he mumbles.

One thing Starbucks does have going for it, though, are really good napkins for doodling.

Slumping down in his uncomfortable metal chair, elbows resting on the hard, faux-wood table, Percy takes out his pen, and doodles aimlessly on the brown napkins. No, not that pen. Just because it can write doesn’t mean that Percy wants to risk slicing his face open every time he has a stray idea. Completely out of the blue, Annabeth had gotten him a nice set of pens, and ever since then, Percy always keeps one on him. Now, if he could just remember to use the little notebook she had gotten him, too.

Percy is not an artist by any stretch of the imagination. He doesn’t have an image in mind, just lets his pen move, drawing endless chains of triangles and stars, nebulous shapes which form themselves into Greek letters. After he catches himself writing γλαυκῶπις for the eighth time in a row, he sighs, dropping his pen, and picks up the cup, taking a sip.

Yuck. At least the chocolate outweighs the coffee taste a little.

Gods, and their cups are always, like, drenched from condensation--not that Percy can feel it, but there’s practically a whole other drink on the outside of the plastic, dripping all over Percy’s pile of doodle napkins. That must be why they give out so many.

Grumbling, he mops up the mess, ink smudged into a blue-brown slurry.

He stops. 

He squints at one of his doodles. 

Not that anyone else could tell, but Percy had apparently been trying to recreate the signature of Ottoman sultan Selim III, the guy who had supposedly authorized the Earl of Elgin to take the Parthenon Marbles. Percy had been staring at copies of his signature all damn day, trying to tell if it had been forged or copied, but classical Arabic was just so far beyond anything he could even begin to wrap his head around. It was gorgeous work, but even looking at it made Percy’s eyes swim.

This particular doodle is not his best attempt. It looks nothing like the signature. It’s smudged, blotchy, but in a way that’s… weirdly familiar. 

Snatching the napkin up, Percy bolts from the Starbucks, leaving his mocha behind.

Taking the steps of his apartment building two at a time, he bursts into his kitchen. His set up is exactly how he left it, books spread out all over the table, laptop shut and laid askew, the dry, half-eaten remains of his morning muffin on a plate on top of his encyclopedia of illuminated manuscripts--except for one book, the one on Ottoman history of the nineteenth century. It’s been opened, its pages facing the door, in the exact opposite direction of all the other books. 

“Hello?” he calls into the apartment. “Anyone home?”

No response. 

Percy approaches the table. 

From the pages, Selim III stares at him, his portrait rendered in black and white, sitting just above a figure of his signature, his tughra. 

Percy picks up the book, squinting. 

The signature is crisp, clean, a work of art all by itself. 

He looks at his napkin drawing. Blurry and smudged.

Opening his laptop, he pulls up the scans of the documents in the British museum, zooms in on the letter’s seal.

Blurry and smudged.

Percy stares. 

It… can’t be that simple, can it?

In a daze, he fires an email off to his new grad advisor. Hopefully he won’t mind Percy sticking his nose in where he doesn’t belong. Hey Dr. T--was looking at the Parthenon marbles docs in the BM (don’t ask) and I noticed this weird smudge on the tughra. Lazy scribe, maybe?

And he closes his computer.

Later that night, while he puts Junie to bed, he gets a response. not sure. sent it to a colleague for a closer look. 

He can’t even be bothered to really think about it though, not with Junie looking up at him with Annabeth’s eyes, and asking for another book. “Alright, kiddo,” he acquiesces, settling in beside her. All her story books are in ancient Greek, and at age two, she’s starting to recognize the letters. “Which one are you thinking?” 

“Daw-fins, daddy,” she says, smiling.

“Dolphins, eh? Getting Mr. D on your side early, I see. As smart as mommy.” He leans down and kisses her forehead before he starts to read her the story of the sailors and their sudden dolphin madness. 

***

“Huh,” Percy says to himself a few weeks later, as he and Annabeth are chilling on the couch, watching some Netflix.

His advisor has forwarded him an article from the BBC (New evidence suggests Elgin documents to be forgeries) with an accompanying note: Amazing catch! 

“What is it?” Annabeth asks, nudging him with her elbow--a feat, since she also has an armful of a squirmy Junie to deal with.

“Update in the Parthenon marbles thing.”

That gets her attention. Anything Parthenon-related does. “Really?”

He shows her his phone.

Her eyes go wide as saucers. “Damn.”

“Yep.” He doesn’t realize he’s smiling until he feels his lips pulling at the sides of his mouth. 

“My mom is probably your biggest fan right now.”

He starts. “What did you say?”

Turning back to the TV, she still manages to cast him a weird look. “I said, my mom will probably love you for this.”

A beat, then Percy practically somersaults over the couch, darting into the kitchen. Wrenching open the pantry door, he shoves his hand behind their collection of flours, fingers grasping for--

“If you’re looking for any more sacrificial cookies,” Annabeth calls after him, “we burned them all when Junie got a cold.”

“Remind me to make some more,” says Percy, pulling out his prize. It’s a little dusty, streaks of flour clinging to the blue velvet. “I have a feeling we’ll need them.”

“Oh yeah?” She chuckles. “What, did Olympus put in a special order?” 

Percy slides back down next to her, ring hidden in his closed fist. “Can I have the baby for a sec?”

Eyes fixed to the screen, Annabeth passes her over. Junie’s hands automatically reach for his nose, ready to grab, but Percy places the ring in her grasp instead, kissing her forehead. “Hey, babe?” he asks Annabeth, handing her back. “I think our daughter has something for you.”

Annabeth takes her without a second glance. 

Then she does take a second glance.

Ring closed in her pudgy toddler fist, Junie holds it out to her.

Annabeth gapes. 

“So,” Percy says, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, “quick confession: I wasn’t just working on the marbles for fun.”

Annabeth just stares. Junie babbles.

“Your mom told me that if I helped get the marbles back, she’d back us against Hera if we ever got married. So…” He trails off, waiting for her response. As close as he is, he can see the tears start to well up in her eyes--a good sign. “Shall we?” he prompts.

“Oh thank all the gods.” Annabeth is crying, because she's Annabeth. And because she's Annabeth, she also wastes no time in transferring Junie to her other side, and holding out her hand so Percy can slide the ring on her finger. “I was so worried I'd have to have Chase on my Masters’ diploma, too.”

5)

Percy is making sauce when his phone lights up. He hits speaker. “Hey.”

“Hey man,” comes the tinny voice of Magnus. “Sorry I missed your call earlier.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Percy says, “I figured you were dying or something.”

Magnus’ eye roll is almost palpable. “Very funny. What’s up?”

Bringing the spoon to his lips, he blows on it, taking a taste, before reaching for the salt. Needs way more. “Do you happen to have any Varangian guards in Hotel Valhalla?”

“Varangian guards? Uh, maybe. Probably. Why?”

“I’m doing a thing on the attempted reconquest of Sicily,” he says, lowering the heat a little to a simmer, “and I’m having some trouble piecing together the Battle of Montemaggiore. Know anyone who was in it?” 

Magnus hums. “I’ll ask around. Anyone in particular you’re looking for?”

Rifling through their little spice cabinet, he makes a mental note to get a new thing of hot sauce, tipping the rest of it into the pot. “If you have anyone who fought under Harald Hardrada, that would be great.”

“Hardrada? I’m pretty sure he lives on the fifth floor.”

Percy nearly drops the bottle. “No shit?”

“Big dude, long mustache, writes poetry?”

“Yes!” He picks up the phone, grinning from ear to ear. “Do you think I could come up and talk to him sometime?”

“Sure, but I thought you were doing something on Homer’s identity?”

He groans. “Backburnered for now until she stops driving me crazy.” No matter how many times Percy tells her, he can’t just drop the “Homer was actually an Egyptian woman” bomb without some serious evidence backing that up. And forgery is not one of his strong suits. Hence the need for a different topic for the time being.

“Has everyone ever told you your life is weird?”

“No, why do you ask?”

His phone suddenly vibrates, shocking him so badly he nearly drops it into the saucepan. Almost home, texts the love of his life, a shot of serotonin directly into his bloodstream. V hungry

“Sorry, Magnus, but I gotta run. Thanks for your help.”

“No problem. Say hi to my cousin for me.”

“Can do.”

“And make sure you pick a date soon! Sam needs to know so she can schedule her flight home.”

“Soon as I can.” You know, when his brain isn’t melting from grading undergrad papers. And making sure Annabeth and Junie are fed. And that Annabeth doesn’t lose herself in graduate school. And finding Junie a new preschool after she destroyed a classroom last month because of a monster. His toddler is a badass. But he’s a little worried she’s gonna follow Mommy and Daddy’s example as far as school goes. 

Sometimes, he thinks that their wedding just won’t ever happen. With Athena on board, he figured it would happen sooner or later, but time just… keeps getting away from them. Which isn’t the end of the world. A lifetime at Annabeth’s side is all he really needs, Mrs. Jackson or no. But he’s seen the silver fabric she weaved for her wedding dress. It would be a shame for all that hard work to go to waste.

And, yeah, he wants to see his little Junie dancing down the aisle flinging seaweed before her mother. He wants his mom to cry a little and he wants all his friends to be there to celebrate with them. Is that so much to ask? 

Speaking of his two favorite girls--”We’re home!” Annabeth calls from the hallway. “Junie, go say hi to daddy!”

Her bare feet slapping against the floor, his daughter comes toddling in, making a beeline for him. “Hey, kiddo,” Percy says, scooping her up. “How’s my best girl?”

“She’s just fine, thanks,” Annabeth says, setting her work bag down on the table. “Tell me I don’t have to wait for dinner--Margie kept me for the entirety of my lunch break, and I am starving.” 

“Just gotta make a salad and we should be good to go.” But he makes no move to finish chopping vegetables, entirely too enraptured with the way Junie smiles when Percy sticks his tongue out at her. “Let me guess,” he says. “Does my best girl want some olives?”

“Peas,” Junie says. 

“Oh, you want peas instead?”

She giggles, waving her arms. “Elaia, daddy!”

“Fine,” and he kisses her nose. “Extra olives for you.”

“Chip off the old block,” Annabeth says.

Handing her back to her mother, Percy sighs. “When am I going to get a kid who likes anchovies?”

“I’m doing my best here, okay?”

***

Hardrada is… not what he expected.

“Reputation isn’t that bad.” Hardrada is saying. “The production isn’t what it should be, but lots of her lyrics are still on point.” 

“The production ruins it,” Percy insists. “And as a follow up to 1989? It's just bad.” 

“And what about Lover?”

“What about Lover?”

“You can’t argue with the genius of that one.”

“It is terribly inconsistent,” Percy shoots back. “Yeah, ‘The Archer’ and ‘Daylight’ and ‘Miss Americana’ are sublime, but ‘ME!’? Come on!”

“Are you one of those people who thinks she peaked at Red?”

“Red is a bop from start to finish,” Percy fires back. “But she definitely peaked at folklore.”

“Thinking she peaked at folklore is just pedestrian when ‘tis the damn season’ exists!” Hardrada yells, drawing his axe, which is then promptly flung over Percy’s head. 

As the only mortal in a room full of armed, excitable, undead Taylor Swift stans, Percy beats a hasty exit, Magnus and Jason covering him as he flees, because they’re just so thoughtful like that. Percy’s pretty sure he saw Magnus take an arrow to the knee, going down in a heap, before he shuts the door to the hotel, finding himself in a Forever 21. 

Looking over his notes later as he gets back to his apartment in the North End, he frowns. They had spent… approximately twenty minutes talking about Sicily before getting solidly off track. Who knew an eleventh century viking would have such intense feelings about pop music? 

And now he’s singing “seven” to himself as he unlocks the apartment door, because it's a good song, and because it made him think of Annabeth. And he always wants to think of Annabeth. 

“Hey, babe,” he calls into the apartment, toeing off his shoes. “I’m back!”

He gets no response.

Percy looks up, confused. “Annabeth?”

“In the bathroom,” he hears, faintly. 

“Everything okay?”

“Yep! Totally fine!” she says, unconvincingly. 

“Alright,” he calls back. “Let me know if you need something.”

Moving Junie’s toys out of the way, he drops down onto the couch, grabbing his laptop. Hopefully he can make some sort of sense of the… notes… that he got from Hardrada. Though he’s probably going to have to trek out to Beacon Hill again, which, while not really out of his way, does mean he has to hike a bit from the Park Street station through the Commons, which makes him super sweaty and out of breath. It’s just embarrassing, walking into a hotel full of the greatest warriors of Valhalla, and Percy can barely handle a hill. 

However, he’s not so out of practice that he can’t sense Annabeth coming up behind him. “You good?”

“What do you think about getting married by the end of the month?”

“Sure,” he says, pecking at his computer. Damn autocorrect ruining all the Norse names. He keeps forgetting to download the right language package he needs. “But I thought you wanted to wait until after you turned in your portfolio?”

“Well… I might not be able to fit in my dress if we wait much longer.”

That gets his attention.

Percy turns around, slowly. Annabeth is grinning, holding a thin little piece of plastic with a circle on the end. She wiggles it. 

“Is that…?”

“Yep.”

“Oh.”

Her smile falls. “Are you mad?”

“What? No!” Percy slides his computer off his lap, twisting around to face her, up on his knees. “No, no, not at all. I’m not mad.” She slings her arms around his neck, pregnancy test warm against his skin. “I just…” 

Eyes warm, she looks into his, unafraid. “What is it?”

“It’s…” It’s silly, is what it is. But this is Annabeth. If he can’t tell her, who can he tell? “I just feel bad that I’ve gotten you pregnant twice before getting married.”

“Well, at least I’m not nineteen this time,” she says, raising an eyebrow. “But maybe we wouldn’t have this problem if you weren’t such a horndog.”

Percy snorts. “Me? What about you, Annabeth ‘3 AM anal before my first lecture’ Chase.”

“Jackson,” she corrects.

“Huh?”

“It’s Annabeth ‘3 AM anal before your first lecture’ Jackson.”

Grinning, he presses his mouth to hers. After all this time, she still smells like lemons, her lips soft and warm. “Not yet it’s not.”

“Then let’s make it happen.”

And, well, Percy can’t think of a better plan.

+1

Jamie hisses. “Fuuuuuck,” she whispers, the sound dropping like a stone in the dead lecture hall. “Goddamn shit fuck ass.”

And the worst part is, she’d actually spent a lot of time preparing for her Latin midterm. She’d made flashcards, she’d drilled noun endings, she’d even slept with the textbook under her pillow for fuck’s sake. 

Typical--the moment she sits down to take the test, it all goes out the window. 

“Legistne carmen longum de Troiano,” she reads under her breath, as though saying it out loud will unlock some hidden secrets of the cosmos. 

Nope. Nothing. The multiple choices remain as inscrutable as ever.

“Psst.” 

Jamie looks up. 

There’s a four year old staring at her. 

“Hi,” Jamie says. 

“Hi,” says the four year old. Junie, her name is, she thinks. 

Mr. Jackson, Jamie’s Latin TA, will bring his kids to class with him sometimes--his wife works full time, and Jamie guesses that they can’t afford a babysitter. She’s a cute kid, quiet, usually sitting in the corner of the lecture hall, drawing or even knitting, sometimes with her little sister playing with toy ships next to her. 

Now, she’s still staring at her. “What’s up?” Jamie asks.

“Bello,” says Junie.

Jamie blinks. “Sorry?”

“Legistne carmen longum de bello Troiano.” 

She squints down at her test sheet, attempting to visualize her flash cards. That’s… “Bello” is the right answer.

The fuck? The fucking four year old can speak Latin? “Thanks,” she whispers. 

Junie beams at her.

Darting her eyes to the front of the lecture hall, Jamie spies her professor, Buck, completely conked out at his desk, his chest rising and falling with his snores. Percy is nowhere to be seen, his laptop open at his chair. “What’s the next one?” Jamie turns her paper so that Junie can see better.

“Pluto Proserpinam infelicem cepit,” she announces, perfectly accented.

Jamie points to the one after that.

“Rex qui pontem fecit erat Ancus Martius.”

“Awesome.” 

The door to the lecture hall opens. Jamie whips around in her seat, startled, and sees her TA, walking down the steps. From the corner of her eye, Junie disappears, booking it to her dad, who scoops her up without missing a beat. “Hey kiddo,” he murmurs, smiling crookedly. “Were you bothering my students?” Then he glances at Jamie. “Sorry about that--hope she wasn’t too annoying.”

But Jamie shakes her head. “It’s fine.” Dammit. 

Still smiling, Percy makes his way back down to his seat. Junie grins at her over his shoulder, her arms wrapped tightly around her dad’s neck.

At the beginning of the semester, Professor Buck had droned on and on about Mr. Jackson, about how he was one of the best up-and-coming classics scholars in the world, how he could have had his pick of PhD programs, and how NYU was lucky to have him. He got first pick of assistantships this semester, apparently, but had volunteered to teach Latin 1001, and they should all be grateful, because he had done some beautiful new translation of Virgil for his Master’s thesis, and they were all going to learn a lot from him. 

Turning back to her exam, Jamie snorts. Of course a guy like that would have a kid who could speak perfect Latin. 

She really should have just stuck with German instead. 

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Worth the World

Spike x Reader

Words: 2459

Summary: On a particularly bad day, the reader can barely bring herself to get out of bed. Spike does his best to comfort his girlfriend without being overbearing. 

Notes: This is inspired by one of my favorite fics ever by @suckmysupernatural. I got this idea when having a depressive episode myself, so I hope you guys enjoy a little comfort fic with one of my favorite vamps. Plus, I’ve never written for Spike before and since I’m getting back into Buffy, I thought this would be the perfect time. (Also, this is entirely based on my own experience, so it might not be everyone’s experience with this kind of thing {but please be nice, I just used a few of the things I felt so it’s all based on my own emotions and insecurities!}) Enjoy!

Warnings: Depression, self-loathing, anxiety (This imagine was really just a way for me to put down my emotions and write something comforting, but I hope you all like it too)

-

You didn’t want to move. You weren’t really sure if you could. Your limbs just felt… heavy. Forcing your legs to move, you slowly swung them over the side of the bed, using all the strength you could muster to sit up straight. 

It wasn’t that something terrible had happened. In fact, the day before had gone pretty well. You’d spent most of it watching movies with Willow and Buffy and, when the sunset, you went on a long evening walk with your boyfriend. There were no deadly forces plotting world domination, no vengeful vamps after you or your friends. Hell, your favorite restaurant was open and you brought home leftovers for breakfast. 

Now, the idea of eating made your stomach turn. You managed to shuffle your way to the kitchen of your apartment, but just stood in front of the counter, leaning on the marble top for support. Just standing there felt like it took every ounce of energy you had. It was almost painful, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. You did your best to keep them from falling. You had places to be today, meeting up with the gang and  you didn’t want to worry them with your moping. 

With slow steps, you made your way back to your room to get dressed. Of course, most of your clothes were dirty and you didn’t care enough to wash them. So you threw a sweatshirt over your pajama top and put on some shoes, hoping no one would ask about it. You caught your reflection and felt that dark, empty feeling in your chest grow. Pathetic. Your shoulders sagged forward and you blinked away more tears as you watched them well in your eyes. You didn’t have the right to feel like this. How much had Buffy been through and she still greeted every day with a smile. Everything was perfect and yet you were pathetic enough to still want to crawl back into bed. You just hoped that you would feel better by the time you saw everyone. Especially Spike. 

-

You sat with your legs pulled up to your chest. Xander and Willow were debating whether or not using wooden bullets would be a good vamp killer. Buffy was listening in amusement and Giles just looked exasperated, distracting himself by putting books back in their proper place on the shelves. No one said anything about your pajamas. You actually felt kind of invisible, like no one even really knew you were there. It made the empty feeling that much worse. 

“What do you think, Y/N?” 

“Xander, don’t you think that’s a little insensitive?”

“What? It’s not like we’re planning on dusting her boyfriend. Even if he is annoying and evil and-”

“Xander.” Willow said sternly. When you looked up, everyone’s eyes were on you. 

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t really paying attention.” Your voice held little to no emotion. You were almost too exhausted to feel anything. You just felt hollow. 

“If I shot Spike with a wooden bullet do you think he would, you know,” Xander made a motion with his hands that was meant to simulate a vampire dying. “Just theoretically, of course.” 

Everyone was expecting a witty remark. You and Xander were close and teased each other often, especially about your relationship with Spike. Instead, you just shrugged, your eyes fixating on a spot on the table. 

“Maybe.” 

The group collectively exchanged a look of concern, but didn’t press anything. After all, what reason could there be for you to be upset? They knew that if something had happened with Spike, you would tell them and there weren’t any recent deaths to worry about, so they continued on with their playful conversations about breaking curses and some movie that they had watched recently. It felt like you were intruding- like an unwanted bystander that everyone wished would just disappear. While no one had said anything like that, the thoughts filled your head nonetheless. 

This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, but you’d never told them. An episode like this hadn’t happened in months so you had hoped they had stopped. Some days you were as happy as you ever had been, but others you felt like a burden. Worthless and pathetic- pitying yourself for no reason at all. 

Spike didn’t even know, even after almost a year of dating. You never dreamed of telling him. Spike was always saying that you were the strong one. You were the one that helped him through every day of his endless living. He got his soul for you. What would he say if he saw you like this? If he knew the doubts and loathing going through your head. He would know that you’re weak and vulnerable and you didn’t want that to happen. 

So you didn’t tell them. You kept all of your thoughts inside of you as they ate away at your mind. On the outside, you just looked tired. Everyone knew that you stayed awake into the late hours because of Spike, so you hoped that’s what they would think. You were tired, but it wasn’t from lack of sleep. It was like your body just wanted to give up. Maybe if you could just wake yourself up, everything would go back to normal. 

Buffy and Willow went out for coffee, so you went with them, hoping the caffeine would be enough to shake you out of this. Instead, it just made you more jumpy and anxious. The cup shook in your hand, but you kept drinking, still hoping that it would give you enough energy to fake it. This, like your out-of-it demeanor, did not go unnoticed. 

“Hey, are you feeling okay?” Buffy asked, suddenly stopping her conversation with Willow about shoes. At first, you didn’t realize she was talking to you. You were so focused on the thoughts swarming around in your head, you hadn’t noticed they were both looking at you with concern. 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Because you’ve been spacing out all morning. What’s going on?” 

“I guess I’m just tired.” You shrugged, grimacing from the effort the small movement took. 

“Are you sure? Did Spike do something stupid, because you know I’ll-”

“Really, Buffy, I’m okay. I think I just need to go home and rest for a while.” You finished the rest of the coffee, feeling your heart beat faster as the anxiety built up in your chest. “I’ll see you guys later, okay?” 

“Okay.” Buffy gave you a skeptical glance and Willow smiled sincerely.

“Feel better, Y/N.” 

“I’ll see you guys later.” You faked the best smile you could before turning away from them. 

“Is she going to be okay?” Willow wondered, watching the way you nervously messed with the hem of your shirt as you walked. Buffy narrowed her eyes and grabbed her bag. 

“I don’t know, but if she won’t talk to us about it, there’s one person she will.” 

“Oh do we have to go there? You know that place gives me the creeps.” Willow whined. Buffy just gave her a look and the two trekked off in search of your sun-hating boyfriend. 

-

You stood in the middle of your living room as the tears slowly started to pour down your cheeks. The coffee must have given you enough energy to cry and now you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t move, you just stood, frozen by the overwhelming emptiness inside you. Pathetic. Useless. Worthless. Everything was swirling around your head, breaking you down further until you had to lean against the window sill to stay standing. 

You could faintly hear something outside your door, but you made no motion to open it. It sounded far away, or maybe you were just blocking it out. All you could hear was your heart pounding, along with the hundreds of doubts rattling in your head. It was until the door burst open that you flinched. 

“First, the slayer comes banging on my crypt, telling me that something’s wrong and then you leave me to break down your door- if I could die, you would have scared me to death. Why didn’t you open the door?” Spike huffed in frustration. You didn’t turn around. Frankly, you hardly noticed he was there. His irritation quickly faded, replaced by worry. “Y/N, love, what is it?” 

You still didn’t respond, keeping your back turned with your hands clinging to the window sill to keep from falling. Spike approached you slowly and you thought you heard his footsteps, but part of you thought you were just imagining him. Why would he come for you? It was the middle of the day and the sun was high in the sky. A rush of guilt washed over you. He came here despite the danger of being burned and you didn’t even have a reason. You’d put him at risk for your own pitiful problems. 

“Darling, why won’t you look at me?” He took another step towards you, but stopped. The sun’s rays created a shield around you, preventing him from pulling you into his arms. “If you could just lower the blinds, that would make this far less awkward.” 

“You d-didn’t need to come here. T-the sun.” You stammered. You wanted to reach for the curtains, but you still couldn’t move your arms without your legs giving out. 

“A little sunlight isn’t going to stop from me from getting to you,” he said sincerely. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him rush to the window, the sound of his skin sizzling in the light made you let go of the ledge. Your legs buckled just as he got the curtains closed. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You had hurt him. All you had to do was reach up and shut out the sunlight and you couldn’t even do that. He burned himself just to reach you. 

“It’s alright. I’ve got you. It’s alright.” He held you up for a moment before sinking to the floor to hold you in his lap. “I’ve got you love, I’ve got you.” 

“Y-you shouldn’t be here, Spike. I’m not-” You hid your face from his view so he would see the tears. “I’m not worth all of this. There’s something wrong with me. One minute I’m fine and the next I’m like this and I don’t even know why. I don’t have a reason to feel like this. It’s like I’m… broken or something.” 

“You aren’t broken.” Spike said softly, tucking your head under his chin and gently rocking you back and forth. “You’re human.” 

He held you like that for a long while, not saying anything or even moving off of the floor. He didn’t make you look at him until he was sure you had relaxed enough. Putting a finger under your chin, he gently lifted your face to meet his. 

“I’m sorry about all this.” You sniffed, using your sleeve to wipe some of the dampness off your cheeks. 

“I don’t want to hear those worse from you for the rest of the day.” Spike gave you a small smile and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I would trek across deserts wrapped in a blanket if it meant being here with you. Every second is worth it.” Now, he lowered his lips down to yours for a slow, sweet kiss. When he pulled back, his eyes were shining with the soul of a man in love. “To me, love, you’re worth the world.” 

You stared into his eyes and knew that he meant every single word. While it didn’t chase away your doubts or the empty feeling in your chest, it helped you see that this feeling would end. And for now, that was enough. 

“I love you.” You whispered, pulling him closer. He kissed the top of your head. 

“I love you too, darling.” He hooked his arm under your knees and stood, holding you against his chest. “Now, why don’t I get you something to eat and we can spend the day in bed?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I’ll behave, I promise.”

“Spike.” You laughed lightly. 

“There,” He beamed, “I knew I could get a smile.” 

He carried you into your room and placed you on your usual side of the bed, laying your fluffiest blanket over top of you. Then he vanished into your kitchen, the sound of your cupboards opening and shutting reminding you that he had no idea where anything was. It almost made you smile. He came back in with a bowl of your favorite cereal, a class of milk, and a thin leather bound journal. 

“What’s that?” You wondered as he climbed into the bed beside you. He handed you the cereal and milk and put his arm around you, pulling you close. 

“Eat your cereal.” He ordered teasingly, opening up to the first page. You tried to look over his shoulder, but he pulled the book away, laughing. “Do you want me to read or not?” 

“What is it?” Your curiosity made your tone amused and playful. You were starting to sound like you again. 

“Well, ever since I got this pesky soul back, I’ve had an unbearable amount of feelings running about in my head, so I figured I could at least put them to good use.” 

“Spike, are they…?” You perked up with excitement. He smiled sheepishly. 

“Poems.” He looked down at seemingly endless pages of his writings and back at you. “They’re mostly about you, of course. I thought, maybe, you’d like to hear them. See if they’d make you feel a little better.” You were almost too awestruck to nod. 

“I’d really like that.” 

With your cereal in hand, you curled up beside him, laying your head back against his shoulder. He read softly and slowly, his gentleness with his words almost lulling you to sleep. The poems were beautiful, forcing you to stay awake if only to hear one more word. Spike felt you relaxed against him as he read and paused his reading to kiss your forehead, then your cheek, and lastly your lips. 

You felt the emptiness for a few more days, but each day, he was by your side, making sure you ate and gave yourself time to breathe. By the time you started to feel normal again, he’d read most of his poems and continued to write more and you were able to go for your evening walks without feeling exhausted. Your friends were more than supportive and helped you through it all while still giving you the space you needed. 

It wasn’t the last time an episode like this happened, but now you always knew that, no matter what, you’d never be alone.

-

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks; @kendahl0216

[flowerwrites06]

under the moonlight — jjk

Plot: Jungkooks’ omega is in heat. 

Pairing(s): Alpha!Jungkook x Omega!OC (Name: Belle) 

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Word Count: 5k+

Genre: Supernatural | ABO Dynamics | Smut/Angst 

Tags & Warnings: abo dynamics, explicit smut, mild violence

Authors Note: repost for those who wanted this! 

Elation floated around her mind when she was taken in as a mate by the alpha himself. Only the strongest were chosen so it was no surprise that a sense of pride burst through her body at the decision. Though the result of it all had been a lot more anti-climactic than expected when Jungkook seemed to have no interest in being near her.

Belle would stay close to him in front of the pack, sleep next to him on his bed but he always turn the other way or just sleep on a chair and not a single intimate touch shared between them. The excitement that once reached the roof of her mood now dropped down to a pile of fear and insecurity.

Nothing happened between the two of them but the omega could not help but think that Jungkook grew tired of her as soon as he took her in. Something the betas were quick to assume in front of her while the alpha was not around.

All hope lost for a while until the heat began. That same excitement bubbled inside her again knowing now more than ever, Jungkook would try to get close.

Belle even went as far as to dress herself up in a short, silk babydoll dress with nothing else underneath making her completely ready and open for her beloved alpha. And she waited in the room. The same room that had no memories but of distance and silence. Her legs rubbed together absentmindedly growing impatient until the door finally opened, heart jumping almost out of her ribcages. A smile stretched across her lips when she saw Jungkooks’ eyes trail up and down her body. “Do you like it?”

Jungkook continued to stare as he closed the door behind him. “It’s cold…wear something warm.” He mumbled under his breath quickly turning on his heel towards the bathroom leaving the omega in her pooling lust and pain.

Frustration burst inside as disturbing thoughts passed through her mind, chest rising and falling rapidly glaring at the direction Jungkook walked away.

In a jolt of impulse Belle grabbed a large coat, draping it over her body before rushing out of the room and being rid of her constant disappointment in her uninterested alpha.

Unfortunately a little omega in heat all alone in the forest may have not been the greatest idea.

-

His body burned like a furnace as soon as he saw her in that thin little nightie, a little see through with her plump thighs peeking out resembling a cake he wanted to bite into. Those gorgeous tender breasts and that fucking smile. So much innocence yet her body spoke all kinds of sin. Jungkook had to grip onto the edge of the bathroom counter to calm himself down, his eyes already darkened with lust as her scent echoed throughout the room hurdling him down to a pit of insanity.

The alpha struggled to keep his control around the beautiful omega and from his observation, the rest of the pack had the same idea. A lot of betas would eye her with dark eyes sometimes whispering all the things they would do to her once she was in heat. Jungkook had to shut them down somehow without showing just how much he hated the thought of anyone else touching the ethereal and delicate creature.

It was simple for him to choose Belle, not much as a second thought passed through his mind when he did. The beauty tried her best to be perfect for him even though really there was no need for a lot of effort since the slightest flip of her hair had him growling in hunger. Every part of his body tingled at the thought of her but he harbored a slight concern of tainting all that innocence.

Jungkook did not earn this position by being gentle on anyone even his previous mates. Though none of their scents swirled in his head as badly as Belles’. It smelled so sweet, calling out for him to taste even just a little.

Thoughts faded when he heard the bedroom door slam shut forcing him to rush back out to the place he saw the beauty waiting for him but now completely empty. The strong scent of her already fading away, frustrating him in mere seconds.

“Where’s Belle?” He immediately announced as he barged out to the main hall where most of the pack were still chatting and eating.

One of the betas shrugged, licking one of her fingers. “She just walked out of the mansion.”

“And you let her?” His eyes flashed amber silencing the entire group as they finally listened to his every word, barely moving.

“We thought she just went out to hunt or something.” Another beta spoke a little less nonchalantly but uncaring nonetheless.

Jungkook was not surprised considering he pushed past most of these betas to get to the precious omega he wanted. The idea burned him with more fury, raking his fingers through his hair knowing Belle would not just randomly go out to hunt. He rejected her while she was deep in heat, any member of the pack would have been frustrated beyond belief.

“She’s just a scrap member of the pack, Kook.” The first beta spoke up again rolling her eyes at how concerned the alpha looked. “I don’t hear a lot of noises from the bedroom so that means you probably taken her yet so—let her freeze.” She quickly came to regret her words when her neck now tightly encased into Jungkooks’ hand until all her breath stuck in her throat.

“She has more use to the pack on her pinky finger than you do in your whole body.” He seethed before letting her drop to the floor coughing.

“Jimin!” Jungkook growled in command for one of the betas as they rushed out of the mansion in search of his omega.

-

The night was harsh and cold especially since her legs were not properly covered, allowing the breeze to create goosebumps on her skin. Belle had no idea where she was going but the mansion deemed to be an unfriendly and now unsatisfying place to be in. At least it was warm though. Even the mud splotched under her shoes making her feel more exposed, pooling between her legs forced an annoying mixture of desire and disgust.

For a moment she imagined Jungkooks’ reaction of her disappearance. Would he be angry the omega rushed out into the open while still in heat? Would he even care? Hell, had he even noticed at this point that she was gone?

Unlikely, she thought. He probably took in a beta he actually wanted instead of her and continued on with the night in a flurry of pleasure. The vision and thought caused a burning behind her eyes that deemed to be the only warm thing on her body.

A rustle in the bushes made her heart jump as Belle hugged herself even tighter. In a small moment of hope she thought it was Jungkook but the forest looked completely empty. She wanted to call his name out but no sound wanted to be formed. All of her words replaced with shivers. Twig snapped somewhere close by, her ears pricked up trying to back away against the tree trunk until her back hit something.

Except it wasn’t a tree. Trees didn’t have hot breath running down her neck and limbs that tried to wrap around her body.

Belle gasped quickly turning around to see the figure, the tiniest ray of hope of the person being Jungkook now completely destroyed when she came face to face with a man, eyes flashing red and trailing uncomfortable slow down her body.

“Look at you…” He gave her a sinister smirk as she continued to back away. “It’s dangerous for such a pretty omega to be walking around here.” He took a step forward attempting to stay closer distance no matter how much the woman tried to move. “Especially one that—smells so sweet.” His eyes flickered down immediately making Belle press her legs together tight. “Where’s your pack, darling?”

She stammered lightly having that vision of Jungkook again with a beta and her heart sank deeply glancing behind her.

“Oh…” He followed her gaze. “Exiled pup.”

“I wasn’t exiled.” Belle argued. “I—I left.”

He hummed and nodded, plump lips pouting out a little before carefully taking another step, a tiny bit pleased when the creature did not take another step back. “Why did you leave?” The question lingered in the air for a while as the man was now almost overwhelmed by the decadent scent touching his nose.

“My—the alpha—” She gulped down the lump in her throat. “I’m not wanted there.” The reply was simple but saying it made her body close in wanting so badly just to ask Jungkook what she did wrong. But he would never tell her.

“I don’t think that’s the truth.” He shook his head, one more step taken now only closing the distance since the omega stood still. “If I had someone like you in my pack, I would’ve taken you as my mate without a second thought.” Something stirred in his pants even just imagining the idea of this gorgeous creature being his mate. “Especially when you’re in heat…” His deep voice vibrated in her ears a little. “I’d never leave your side.”

Belle gripped onto her coat again averting her gaze to the trees, wondering if sprinting away would be a good idea or could just get her into more trouble. “I don’t know you.”

“Oh my apologies—I’m Taehyung…I lead the pack on the South edge of the forest.” He gestured casually behind him with a small smile.

The omega was a little surprised that this alpha even answered her question. Omegas had no real right to ask anything, they were just supposed to do what they were told and be the butt of everyone’s joke. Part of the reason why all the betas grew furious at her presence after the alpha chose her. The runt of the pack.

“What’s your name?” Taehyung leaned in slightly searching her expression.

“Belle.”

“Belle.” He whispered back, a smile tugging at his lips as his eyes trailed from her bright eyes and slightly glistening pink lips. “I never knew omegas came this pretty.” Taehyung practically stood over her now. “Too bad your alpha didn’t snatch you up when they had the chance.” Fingers hovered over the creatures’ neck trying not to touch the skin just yet. “Good thing I found you. Anyone else would have already grabbed you by now.”

Belle shifted a little to get away from his lingering fingers. “Am I supposed to be thankful?”

“You should always be thankful if an alpha decides not to kill you for being of no use.” Taehyungs’ tone grew serious for a brief moment. Though his expression softened when the omega hung her head not giving him another response. With a sigh, he spoke again. “I’m not going to hurt you. Someone so beautiful should never come in harms’ way.”

“I’m not beautiful.” No one in the pack thought so. Belle never really got to sit at the table with everyone else and on the rare occasion, a few of them sat with her to taunt her about something for entertainment. It sounded like a harsh life but the girl did not really have any other family left to wonder what everything could be like. Besides she felt safe at best in the mansion. Especially since the moment the omega walked out, another alpha sniffed her out in minutes.

Taehyung merely chuckled at her comment. “Would you like me to show just how beautiful you are?” Those wild fingers now hovered over the coat covering her shivering body. “I’ve been wanting a little omega for a while.”

“I’m already—” It would be a lie to say Belle was taken as a mate since she technically was not. But this red eyed alpha was still a stranger no matter how warm his smile looked now. Lying a little might not be such a betrayal. “I’m already taken.”

“Didn’t you say you left?” His brows furrowed but the smile remained. “That means you’re not taken anymore, sweet one. Means you’re open and ripe for any alphas’ taking.” Taehyung’s flashed that deadly color again as he grabbed her chin firmly to force her gaze on him. “So be a good little pup—”

His words interrupted by a heavy growl that echoed through the tress almost making them tremble. In a flash of black Belle saw Taehyung being tackled to the ground, his right eye already bleeding and puffed up before she could even gain her bearings.

Gaze followed the assailant and immediately recognized the long-ish curly hair. His fists practically jackhammered across the other alphas’ face, only giving him the chance let out grunts or cough up blood.

Eventually when Belle’s surrounding came back into clarity, her heart jumped. “Jungkook…” She muttered. The perfect omega inside her wanting to keep her distance and letting the alphas do what they always did. But the part that didn’t want a death because of her running away finally won the battle. “Jungkook, stop!” She grabbed at Jungkooks’ shoulder and tried to pull him back which shocked both the leaders and the beta, Jimin. “I’m sorry…” Her hands moved away from his shoulder back to holding her coat while the two alphas caught their breath.

Jimin glared at her for stopping an alpha fight like that but stayed silent waiting for Jungkook to reprimand the omega instead. The beta did not have any qualm with the creature at all. In fact he thought she was very kind to all the members despite that kindness not being returned a lot of the time. However Jimin knew the rules. Omegas were never allowed to consort with the alpha at all in most cases but breaking up an alpha brawl broke all kinds of tradition.

Taehyung struggled to get himself up from the ground but tried to hide it as much as he could, pulling out a handkerchief and wiping away all the excess blood. “Doesn’t seem like you weren’t wanted, little omega.” He smirked.

Belle merely hung her head not wanting to face anyone and hoped to disappear into thin air. It became harder to be invisible nowadays ever since she got chosen. Everyone either stared at her, whispered or tried to taunt her more than normal just so they could see a reaction that would make her look weak. That way Jungkook would in some way ‘open his eyes’ and figure out she was nothing but a runt. Never good enough.

“You fight dirty as always, Jeon.”

“I told you not to cross to our border.” Jungkook sounded and looked like he had no time for Taehyungs’ smug antics.

“Easy now.” He chuckled. “I just smelled a stray pup and wanted to help. Is that so evil?” His voice was sickly sweet but his wild eyes spoke other things looking over at Belle again causing Jungkook to stand in front of her. “I could get her scent from miles away. It’s almost like she’s never been touched in heat.” He tilted his head.

The omega gulped while Jungkook tightened his jaw.

Taehyung then smiled at the silence. “Ah—she hasn’t.” His eyes flashed red again. “An innocent pup.”

“Don’t come onto my border again or your pack will have to find a new alpha.” Jungkook threatened, eyes still completely amber wanting to rip those wandering eyes out from his sockets.

He raised his hands in defense though as usual taking no real responsibility in considering it seriously. “No more sneaking around. So long as you keep your members in check next time.” Taehyung winked before turning on his heel and disappearing into the forest.

Deadly silence plunged into the forest while Belle’s skin felt like a thin layer of ice covered every inch from how long she had been exposed to the air.

Jungkook stood with his back to her, anger still radiating out of him. “Jimin…go back to the mansion. We’ll catch up.”

Jimin stammered a little wanting to protest but the alpha flashed his still amber eyes forcing him to bow in farewell. He gave a soft glance at the omega trying to be reassuring and not furious but quickly sprinted back into the forest not knowing how much effect it had.

Once the two stood alone in the forest, the alpha spoke.

“All the things you’ve done tonight. You could’ve been killed because of at least one of them.” Jungkook kept his back to her while the omega lowered her head again, staring at her mud covered shoes. “You need to stay out of an alpha fight.”

“I know.” She mumbled.

“And you need to stay indoors when you’re alone and especially when you’re in heat, you know that.” His voice grew more frustrated as the words spewed out of his mouth almost carelessly. “He could’ve taken you by force or even killed you.”

“But he didn’t, I’m fine.” It only came to her attention after a few moments of absorbing his words that this was the most feeling Jungkook had when he spoke to her. Maybe it was just adrenaline from the fist fight.

Jungkook scoffed. “No you’re not. This isn’t fine. A fucking alpha was just about take my own mate in my own territory.” He gestured towards the forest around them wildly.

“I’m not your mate!” Belle snapped finally looking at the male and seeing the glisten of sweat layered on his skin. “You barely even touch me. You just chose me—all I’m doing is sitting, eating and sleeping the same place you are. I’m not your mate, I’m your little unsatisfied housewife!”

He stomped closer to the omega, her scent practically shooting up his nostrils to his head.

“You—you don’t find me beautiful, what’s the point?” She looked down at the covered outfit she had so passionately adorned on her body just to please Jungkook. Only to be once again met with a cold shoulder that seemed to never melt off. “All I want to do is make you happy—but you don’t even want to look at me.”

The alpha stared down at his little omega telling him that she wanted to make him happy. Everyone wanted to make him happy somehow but they always had a ulterior motive and it was never hard to tell. Getting close to the alpha meant getting close to being alpha. But he could sense something else in her tone that never rung with anyone else.

Sincere loyalty.

Not an ambition to fight to the death but a genuine want to please the one she cared about. Jungkook could not express just how much he wanted to do the same thing. “The reason—I don’t look at you…is because when I do, I want to devour you right there and then.”

Belle searched his expression looking for any sign of deceit but it was always hard to read the leader.

“Everything you do…” Jungkook sighed to calm himself down from how much his fingers trembled being so close to her scent. “…I can’t think of anything else. I want to do more things to you than you can imagine.”

She had to close her eyes for a second letting out a shaky sigh, feeling more lust leak out of her making the area between her legs almost drenched. Biting down her bottom lip she held onto his freshly injured hand and placed it under her nightie. Belle had to stop herself from moaning already at his warm hands against her cold skin, riding up her thigh to her soaking wet cunt.

Jungkook growled under his throat finally feeling her cake thighs after so long of just pining and looking. Then the heavenly drench on his fingers pads from making just the slightest contact had him grabbing the back of her neck. Lips stopped merely a breath away from hers trying to keep himself contained from going too wild on her untouched body. Well…now slightly touched.

Belle caressed his chest, gasping lightly as his hand moved achingly slow on her core while her head was kept still dangerously close to his. “Do them to me.” She whispered, a soft, reassuring smile graced her features. “Please…I don’t want to imagine them anymore.” She brushed her own lips against his just gently. Not a kiss but a non-verbal plead. “Take me.”

The alpha managed to keep his control for so long when it came to the omega even though it grew harder and harder by each passing day. Tonight became his breaking point. Now that her scent overwhelmed his entire being, fingers soaked from her juices and those beautiful lips brushing against his, the beast inside him finally broke out of its cage. Leaning in Jungkook took her bottom lip between his twin flesh suckling on the skin and tasting a strawberry hint. Tongue ran across the soft surface as he felt her arms wrap around his neck.

Her heart pounded excitedly against her ribcages finally being able to feel her alphas’ lips again her own. His rough hands shifting from the aching core to her ass, squeezing it a little as Belle parted her lips to invite his tongue happily. Complete submission to the beloved leader had been her wish from the beginning. To see it come true caused a different kind of burn behind her eyes and under her skin.

Reluctantly Jungkook broke away only a little not forgetting to place a trail of pecks before looking into her eyes again. As soon as he gave her that sweet smile, the alpha ducked down and threw her over his shoulder, hand covering the small peek of her ass from her nightie.

-

Once at the mansion, the whole pack watched the alpha had opted to hold his omega’s hand while he took her to their bedroom. The beta who said for Belle to freeze tried to walk over to them and talk to Jungkook only to have the door slammed in her face.

Jungkook pushed Belle into the room and locked the door behind him. Turning around, his eyes were already blown out with lust raking up and down her body. “Show it to me again.” It was a softer demand but a demand nonetheless.

With a willing smile, the omega unzipped the long coat and shrugged it off, throwing it to the side. It didn’t take amazing eyesight to notice the tent growing in his pants. At this point her juices could leak down the inside of her thighs. “Is it nice?” She played with her fingers which made her look a lot more innocent and Jungkook could actually whine.

“Take it off.” He muttered, his mind rummaging through all the sinful things he could do to his little eager mate. “I want to see you.”

Belle kept her gaze on the alpha as her hands gently hooked onto the ends of her thin nightie and pulled it over her head. The piece of cloth now discarded same as the coat. “Like this?”

Jungkook had already accidently seen her in the shower; blurry sights of what her curves and crevices looked like but it did not give the real deal justice. How anyone could have the guts to call her the runt of the pack he would never know. They would watch their tongues next time they tried however. Walking over to the beauty, his hands immediately found their shaking way to her waist, caressing down to her hips making her utter the sweetest breathy hums. Lips pressed onto her neck, leaving trails of kisses until he came to left breast.

Her hands buried into his hair as he swirled his tongue around her nipple before suckling on it lightly. Knees grew weak at every movement trying to keep herself steady while his lips slid down her stomach to her aching core.

The alpha knew once he got this close to her beautiful heat there would be going back. Every day the taste of her would end up lingering on his tongue until he got to taste it again. The beautiful omega did things to him he could never explain to even her let alone anyone in the pack. Despite knowing this personal risk, Jungkook did what he craved for so long. Tongue moved up from her leaking hole to her throbbing clit. He couldn’t help but smile a little at how her whole body jerked at the new found pleasure.

Belle felt how his tongue licked at one particular spot that jolted a surge up her body making her jerk. In seconds, she felt his lips wrap around the small nub coaxing light moans to spew out of her while her fingers still tangled in his hair. “Jungkook…”

He moaned sending vibrations against her core. With a slight pop, Jungkook broke from his light snacking and bite onto her thighs like he always wanted.

The omega giggled affectionately caressing his head before he stood over her. A few messy steps and Belle dropped back onto the bed. Propping herself up on her elbows, she watched Jungkook strip himself of his clothes until they were both now bare. Lust blown eyes stared down at his twitching, hard member before licking her lips.

“Spread your legs.” Jungkook only had to tap her knee gently for her to move her legs apart more than enough for him to sneak in between. Wrapping his fingers around his cock, he rubbed the reddened tip against her clit making her throw her head back. “You want it, baby?”

Belle nodded frantically.

“I can’t hear you.” His tip poked at her slit. The little game tortured him as much it did her but he wanted to hear her beg.

“Yes, I want it..” She jerked her hips against his movements, gasping when the tip of his cock entered her slightly. “I want it so bad.”

She always knew how to touch that extra nerve in his body every single time. It was almost magical how the omega had so much control over him by being so perfectly submissive. Jungkook pushed his cock into her snug little hole with soaked ease, her cunt flowing making it all the more harder not to just pound her into oblivion. His hips moved slow letting the sounds of watery sloshing ring in his ears. Arms pressed down the sides of her body, hovering over the omega as he relished in her warm walls.

Belle held onto his forearm as she watched her pussy getting stretched by his cock. The amount of times she dreamed of this happening was a little embarrassing. Now that it was happening and his shaft inside her felt so invigorating, she could giggle in glee.

Their foreheads pressed together softly as Jungkook whispered. “You like that?”

She nodded, gasping and moaning. “Yeah…”

The one word was all that needed to be uttered for him to quicken his pace a little, skin slapping against each other ever so slightly. Jungkook shifted down to his elbows now as he caressed her cheek. “Don’t ever leave me like that again.” He whispered a little breathless, still thrusting into her steadily.

“I won’t…” Belle cupped his cheek, struggling to keep her gaze as the pleasure tickled her every nerve. “I won’t, I promise.”

Lips pressed against hers, tongue exploring everything he knew was willingly submitted to him tonight. Once the kiss broke the softness melted along with it as the alpha pounded into her cunt. Arms back up, muscles popping out furiously before hooking one of her legs over his shoulder.

Her moaning became an uneven pattern melting into the sounds of their wet skin grinding and slapping against each other. As soon as Jungkook leaned in closer, Belle muffled a few of her whimpers into a heated kiss while her hand moved down to find that little nub, rubbing it to match with his thrusts. The tight ball in her lower belly exploded before she could even expect it, her legs trembling and a flurry of moans passing her lips.

Jungkook felt her walls clench around him already feeling the pressure around his cock push him closer to his orgasm. His thrusts grew a little more brutal grabbing her hips and hammering into her while she gave him that beautiful, innocent smile to reassure him it was okay to keep going despite her sensitivity.

“Cum inside me…” She managed to say as her body literally shook with the force of his thrusts.

Her adorable whisper was all it took for the alpha to finally come undone, filling his beauty up with his seed in a sloppy and rough thrusts. Only until the last drop did he pull out slowly watching a little bit of his release dripping out of her.

“I’m yours now.” Belle giggled.

Naked, cleaner bodies cuddled together under the blankets now relishing in their new found intimacy after so long suffering distance and silence.

“Would you have gone with him?” Jungkook asked.

Belle sighed, heart sinking a little when all her true thoughts popped in her head first. “I didn’t want to. But I would’ve to save myself, I guess. Otherwise he could’ve just killed me.” She shrugged nonchalantly. Truthfully she did like the attention Taehyung gave her despite his less than chivalrous nature. He had a danger about him that was less creepy more intriguing but still nothing compared to what Jungkook made her feel. Though the omega did not want to ruin the new mood they had so her verbalizing answer only lingered in the air. “Would you have found someone else after I left?” She traced patterns on his chest.

The alpha gulped not knowing how to tell her that he had eyes on her for the longest time to a point where he barely noticed what the other members looked like. Granted they were pretty but a lot of people were ‘pretty’. “Probably not. None of them would taste as good as you.”

She giggled hiding her face in his torso. “You didn’t even taste me then.”

“No but you smelled really fucking good.” He smiled nudging the top of her head with his nose. “I thought I lost you…just for a second.”

“If an alpha came up to me after this, I will fight.”

“You will?”

“Of course…” She propped herself on her elbow and smiled up at him. “I’m yours now, remember?” She lay a small kiss on his chest.

Jungkook caressed her cheek, not being able to help mimicking a little smile of his own. “You’re mine.”

[keijisprettygirl]

you perch yourself onto a pastel yellow beach towel, not quite sure if it was yours or Yachi’s since the both of you brought identical towels today.

it was high noon, and the sun beat down on you with intense ferocity that caused sweat to trickle down your neck and back as a few strands of baby hair clung to your forehead. you felt like you were showering in your own sweat.

you were not vibing at all.

even the big old palm tree hovering above you didn’t do much to shelter you from the heat of the sun. the cold drink stowed in your left hand wasn’t enough for the heat to be bearable either.

the sidewalk was hot enough to fry an egg for crying out loud. exactly who’s idea was it to come here?

“who’s idea was it to come here? its so fucking hot!” Rintarou whined the words you thought of, as if reading your mind.

your blonde best friend clicks her tongue from where she stood, turning herself around to face the man with an irritated expression, adjusting the Calloway cream hat that sat on top her head to block the stunning rays of the sun from her eyes.

“well i didn’t think it was gonna be this hot today.. but who cares right? i mean, we haven’t hung out in sooo long! so let’s just deal with it!!”

“whatever dumbass”

“you know what Rin, you’re massive dick”

“huh?”

“you’ve done nothing but complain this entire time we’ve been out and I’m—“

“yeah, I don't care— how is your pool malfunctioning itself when we need it the most? explain yourself woman”

“i’ve already explained it to you guys! have you not been listening Rin—”

“you’re too annoying to listen to”

“like you’re one to talk asshole!!”

“will you two please stop bickering for a second? i’m trying to send this text to my dad but i can’t do that with you two acting like children” Aran bellowed in annoyance, his fingers hovering just above the screen of his new Iphone.

the two immediately shut their traps but not long after did they start bickering again. a tad quieter this time.

You chuckled lightly at the three in front of you, bringing up the cold water bottle to your lips for the hundredth time this hour. “i think it was a great idea to come here Toka” you say, smiling up at the girl sweetly.

“you don’t have to lie to the witch, y/n”

“atleast y/n loves me—“

“no one loves your spoiled ass—“

“Shall we leave and go back to my place?” Aran interrupts. you nod enthusiastically at the idea.

the heat was getting worse by the minute and you were sure that you would pass out at any moment. you wonder how Tetsurou is doing right now as you know he’s currently working on planting Mr Ito’s red roses in the grumpy old man’s front yard.

you hope he’s staying hydrated and frequently applying on sunscreen. Kuroo always forgets to take care of himself sometimes but that’s why he has you right? even though you aren’t his girlfriend, you surely act like one.

he doesn’t seem to mind.

Suna waves a hand in the air, not having a single care about the conversation and where the group ends up at, he just wants to get out of here and go to a place somewhere cooler.

Yachi's shoulders deflate a little, seemingly bothered at her friends for wanting to leave so suddenly but an idea crosses her mind.

“hey i have an idea! why don’t we head to the Kuu Cafe first? i heard that place sells the best ice cream on the island and it’s not even that far from here!”

ice cream sounds pretty good right now, you thought and agreed to her idea as well. Aran was the first to stand, telling the three of you to pack up your stuff so you can head to the Cafe. he says the place gets a bit packed on hot days like this so it would be best to head off as soon as possible.

“y/n can you pay for me?” Suna faces you, a very uncharacteristic expression on his face. jutting out his bottom lip as if acting cute would get you to succumb to shouting him food today. “you’re literally rich enough to buy the whole company Rin”

“yeah, but i can’t be bothered paying”

“i hate you sometimes”

when you reached the destination of the small cafe, a pretty hostess around her mid-forties welcomed the four of you at your arrival and as you drink in the aroma of the place you couldn’t help but think that it looked way fancier than it did on the website made it out to be.

the place was very well decorated with it’s interior warm and cheery, with bright lights and colourful walls and it’s ridiculous amount of flower pots.

taking your seats, you were about to scold the two boys for ogling at the hostess but before you could do so, a familiar tall figure at the counter caught your eye.

he had wavy black hair; broad shoulders and a tight white shirt covering his frame. even when his back faced you, it was in the way he stood that appeared familiar to you but obviously you couldn’t tell if you knew the guy or not but even so..

you tilt your head, now in deep thought.

he looks… oddly familiar?

not at all realizing how you look to the others who stared at you with curious eyes, they followed your gaze and wondered who had suddenly caught your attention and just as they did so, the man you had your eyes on turned around and you audibly gasped. a hand flying to your mouth.

“h-hey y/n? isn’t that—“

“Kiyoomi..”

☀︎︎ Ch.25 ☀︎︎

𝑘𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑠 𝑣𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒𝑠

Previous | Masterlist | Next ➪

a/n: THIS WAS AWFULLY SHORT IM SO SORRY AHHH! it was longer but i found it cringe so i cut it down );

🌷 𝑇𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡: @itoshibaby @oikawasbuttcheeks @babyshoyo @koolaidkoolykid @bongofrito @myanxietyandme7 @underratedmage @babiiey @moremilkforkags @freyafolkvangr @ctrlstar @asahiswrld @chai-tea-isnt-real @darlingkuroo @bestgirlb @rinsangel @kenma-supermacy @sumebreaks @sunaispretty @kowalsqq @scarymucci @tycrackculture @kuroohoeee @schleepyflocci @art-junkie-13 @theunknownparasite @ks-kitten @cherriesanwine @sebariaman @starsabove-me @szeonn @tina-98 @aaniyahz @b0bablinds

[ if your @ is bolded & in pink, means i can’t tag you ]

[remsmoonlight]

— title : don’t leave me lonely

— word count : 3 k words

— pairing : daryl dixon x reader

— summary : when the protective instinct that runs deep within daryl you can’t take how much of a child he treats you, only when words spoken in anger do you both see the truth.

— warnings : swearing, one instance of blood description, vague mentions of daryl’s past and just some general angst

I've heard you're taking requests, soo, Could you please write something with Daryl and 20+62 from prompt list?

Thank you in advance and have a nice day ❤️

        ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　requested   ? yes !     /   requests are open   *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

 prompt list : 20. “Those things you said yesterday… Did you mean them?” &&             “ After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you?”

Pale grey pavement is being painted with the blood of the walkers you had to slaughter in order to survive, to make it back to your family. You dare not speak a word, already predicting a storm awaiting to drench you in its anger that currently forms within the man you slowly began to love. You can’t pinpoint exactly where you began to have these thoughts, experience these feelings, as it hasn’t been an easy road. Loving him is not uncomplicated, the image he shows the world is harsh, though his actions speak louder than his words.

You’re stuck following him and Aaron, the man sparing apologetic glances back every few metres. He has nothing to apologise for, he was simply a bystander to a very awkward encounter between the two.

“ the hell y’doing out here? “

For a moment, your world stops. You hadn’t expected to see anyone out in the secluded area of the greenery that surrounds Alexandria, the whole idea of going from fighting for your life every day to pretending the world isn’t dead is not a pill that is easy to swallow. A potentially horrid coping mechanism, but you have to remember what it’s like out there, to not be protected by steel walls. To pretend you still have to sleep with one eye open, if anything was to ever happen to anyone you love because you allowed your guard to be demolished by a faux safety you wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself.

A timid smile arises on your expression, almost apologetic. You shrug in response to Daryl’s question.

“ y’got no brain now? “ stomping towards you, his eyes burning with outrage and alarm, he doesn’t trust this new situation with you in it.

“ not here, Daryl. “

Trouble has a way of finding you, the unfamiliarity of everything touching the fear that he prays to stay dormant within the walls of Alexandria. At least with you confined to the area he can see clearly, he doesn’t have to imagine the worst possible outcomes to prepare himself for the inescapable of what always happens.

He can’t lose you, he can’t tell you either.

Eyebrows raise in shock over the suddenness of his heated words, never once had he spoken to you in such a way. Even on the rare occasion he was genuinely annoyed with something you had done. You force your features to stay neutral, not wanting a war in front of Aaron, considering you haven’t known him for long.

A mirror image is the displeasure that has stewed within you, the very same of the Dixon man you had shared the road with. Who does he think he is? You ask yourself, that outburst was for no reason and you know it. It’s times like these that confuse you and your feelings for him.

Though you hear no footsteps behind you, you can feel Daryl’s presence stalking you closely, but you pay no mind. Not in any mood to talk, afraid for what you will say in anger.

A temper is something you control, though there are moments it wants to smash down your walls.

With a heavy breath set free into the air, you turn the handle of your home open, leaving it open for Daryl as you know it’s going to be a conversation he will wish to continue. For a rather quiet man, when he wants to, he can say a lot.

Turning to face him, you wet your lips to say something, hoping to calm him before the situation gets out of hand. Hoping to get an idea of why he is so irate, though your expression hardens ever so softly as you realise that he’s most likely going to continue on the tirade he began outside of the walls. Your heart thumps against your ribcage, almost rattling your entire being with anticipation. Being able to hold your own in conflict is something you are able to do, but it doesn’t mean it leaves no scars to litter your soul.

“ okay, so what was that out there, Daryl? “ your words are soft, almost to the tune of a whisper as you question him. Hoping to understand his point of view.

“ y’really gotta ask that? “

Your lips purse, you merely blink in his direction as you shift your weight from one foot to the other. Your heart is full of hurt as he treats you as nothing more than a stranger with the heat that coats his furious words that he hauls in your direction.

It confuses you incredibly how the day has gone to hell so swiftly, but you warn yourself about that. Assuming once dawn breaks that the day will bring something good for once, and not news of another tragedy. Even protected by the stereotypical image of a cookie cut American household can’t hold off death. No matter what, it gets its day.

“ yes, I do! “ you raise your voice, fighting the urge to close the distance. Knowing that he’d mistake it as you being on the offensive. “ I wasn’t doing anything except walking! “

“ yeh, an’ that’s what concerns me. “

A pause.

Nothing but the noises from the residents of this small town can be heard, the silence so deafening it almost obliterates your confusion. The room is so quiet that you even doubt that the two of you are even occupying it, the house feeling more and more cold with the seconds that slug by, it feeling that there’s no life to breathe a new warmth into it. Never has it felt so bare to be in that in that very moment than with the two of you ready to cut deep.

This is what he's pissed about? Before you even realise, you snort from disbelief. It’s something so small, so insignificant you can’t even believe it. Their new found safety has affected the group in many ways, but this has to be one of the strangest as you openly stare at his tense form.

“ seriously? “ you ask, refusing to believe he’s pushing this so intensely for that very reason.

“ y’finding that funny? “

“ yeah, because you’re acting like you’re my damned father. “ pointing a finger in his direction, you pace for a few fleeting seconds.

A closeness between you both has long since been acknowledged, but you’ve never divulged to him the true extent of your emotions. Sometimes you think he’s aware of what you feel, though late at night when you’re alone you realise that it may be better if he doesn’t. You wish you have the confidence to even share it with him, although the thought that blares in your ears warns you otherwise. Your heart couldn’t take another heartbreak, opting for his friendship rather than a cold shoulder born out of awkwardness.

Sometimes you’re sure he’s staring at you with a longing glint in his eye when you’re not paying attention, however you often chalk it up to hope. Never are you one to follow the signs, not wanting to be wrong. Your imagination cannot be crushed if it doesn’t have confirmation.

Hope can be cruel as it can be kind.

“ someone’s gotta, I can’t remember all the times I’ve had t’drag your ass outta trouble! “ his crossbow thuds as it’s dropped without a care, his face reddens as it twists and contorts. You haven’t seen him show this much rage since the Greene’s farm.

The day you first met him is permanently burnt into your brain, being half starved and dehydrated you thought you were hallucinating him. Unable to walk, your limbs weighed a ton under the exhaustion you felt under the punishing Georgian sun but there he was. Surrounded by the rays as if he was your very own guardian angel, but that idea had been put straight to bed as soon as you saw the outbursts from him to the other members of the group.

With the months that passed, you had trouble saying that was the same man you knew today. Less prone to rage, clearer about doing anything in his power to aid his family, though you can’t help but wonder if the old Daryl wants to break through the progress he has made so far.

“ and I never asked for that, Daryl. Why are you acting as if you’re my keeper? “

“ fine! it ain’t my problem if y’wanna be a selfish bitch. “

Causing hurt to the people he loves comes easy to Daryl. To wound deep when he’s scared is all he has ever learnt, to show love and affection was never afforded to him as a child, not even when he silently begged for it. Now, he was physically and mentally scarred, even these days were they still plaguing him like a never relenting ghost. He doesn’t want to hurt you, he hates seeing pain in your eyes, but he can’t convey his worry without fury over the idea of losing you.

He can’t imagine having to live a life where you’re not cracking a joke at the worst possible moment, or your selflessness that will surely one day cause you more harm than good. His breathing increases at the thought, his fists clenching, willing him to stay in place and not barge through the door without a second thought.

“ se - selfish? Daryl, you’re making sense! “

“ y’don’t care about anyone but y’self. Doin’ shit like that by y’self is only gonna get y’killed. All y’think about is you, not anyone left behind. “

“ after everything we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you? “ the fire you had once now leaves nothing but dying embers, defeat coating your words as tears shimmer in your eyes

Daryl doesn’t know how to react at your proclamation, the inner battle to stay in the lounge now lost. His mind is unable to warp the idea of you even entertaining the thought of becoming more than friends, never did he dream that the shield he’d built around himself could injure him more than the outside elements could.

Before he even realised it, he’s leaning down to pick up his crossbow and heading straight for the door. Paying no mind to you taking his departure as rejection and not self preservation.

“ if you think I’m gonna come back, I’ll make you wait a long time! “ you call out before slamming the door.

Hands are brought to your stomach, as if to stem the bleeding from a wound made deep into your torso, though it can’t curb the internal trauma you feel from Daryl ripping himself from your presence. You knew it was a bad idea to tell him your feelings, yet you could hardly stop yourself in the war of words between the two of you. Nothing is a big enough wish than to stop the pain that ignites your entire self, threatening to consume you entirely. Only now do you understand the true extent of your love for him, previously thinking it was little more than a crush, though this feels more. Especially mourning what could have been.

You retreat to your room, not even leaving to share dinner with your family. Afraid not if Daryl would show, but rather your ability to hold your composure when you feel as if you’re glass who’s moments are counting down by the second to shatter into nothing more than sharp fragments that will only slice others to ensure they bleed, to ensure they feel as bad as you do.

“ come on, you’ve got to get some air. “

A series of knocks interrupt your sleep, followed by the voice of who you recognise as belonging to Carol. You ignore her, not wanting to face anyone just yet. The trauma on your heart is still too fresh. However it matters not to Carol, for she simply does not take your silence as an answer, but rather as an invitation as she opens your door.

“ just leave me alone, please. “

“ the others are worried about you, so am I. “ she speaks, concern written all over her face as she steps forward closer to your bed, her frown becoming more and more prevalent.

“ let them be, I just want to sleep. “

“ you don’t have to talk to anyone, come down after breakfast. Just get some fresh air. “ Carol gently requests with a half smile blooming onto her features. If anything is certain, she wants to see you and Daryl work through the fog that currently locks you both away.

Leaving the bed, you groan to yourself. You’re not sure how much time has passed since Carol departed, but it has been long enough for your family to have also left the house to either explore more or two engage in their jobs. It’s something you send a silent thanks to the sky for, all you desire is solitude, with the sun etching its warmth onto your face. Opening the door, you see people going about their business with little regard for you, though you’re sure some of them must have heard the commotion the previous day.

You pay little mind to them though, more concerned on piecing together the broken pieces of your heart than anything else.

Sleep never once visited Daryl, never did it carry him off into a peaceful slumber. Though he can’t help but feel as if he deserves it, as payment for having to be the cause of the damage to you, being the reason you sobbed harder than he’d ever heard you. He’d waited outside that door, pushing himself to make things right, but never did the courage arise. Leaving him lonely once again.

Fuck this he curses himself mentally, this is going to be the one time an opportunity for happiness does not pass him by. Not once more, that was the last time he’d be nothing more than a witness.

Astonishment transforms his hardened expression as he comes to a stop, realising you’re already sitting on the porch next door with a blissfully peaceful air surrounding you. You don’t realise he’s there just yet, your eyes closed as you take in the sounds and smell of Alexandria, a distraction to what you feel. Daryl briefly wonders how he should go about patching things between the two of you, the situation an alien one to him. Fingers reach towards the cigarette packet concealed in his trouser pocket, with the barest of shaking from nerves.

Bringing it to his lips, the smoke is what alerts you to his being closing the distance. You can’t prevent the draining of colour from your face, not prepared from yet another interaction with the Dixon man so early in the morning.

“ I - uh, wanna say sorry. ‘Bout yesterday. “ Daryl apologises, with a regretful tone colouring his words with the most vibrancy he can muster.

Your gaze slips to the floor, watching the grass move ever so slightly with the breeze that wanders through. To forgive is in your nature and you sorely want to extend that forgiveness to him, but to do so after that exchange is a difficult thing.

“ thank you, I suppose. “ you shrug, your hands tying together as you try to make up for a lack of words.

“ I ain’t expectin’ y’to forgive me or nothin’, I just want y’to know. “

You sigh to yourself, you know in your heart he means what he says, you hate that you’ve been this mad at him.. at each other this much, even for a few hours. People and bonds are a rare blessing in this world, and you know it’s better to keep them close than to allow them to burn in the fire of hatred and impulse, to leave them nothing more than ashes ⎯ remnants to revere of an age that has since past.

“ Daryl, I do forgive you. I’m just trying to figure out how we move past this. “ you reply with sorrow, your eyes closing, a crease intensifying between your brows. It hurts to even speak into existence.

“ those things you said yesterday ... did you mean them? “

Bewilderment forces your eyes open, your head snapping to meet his figure that still stands. Here you are preparing yourself to move past Daryl, no matter how hard that would be, and he’s asking you questions about what you said.

“ you’ll have to be specific, I said a lot. “

“ it needs sayin’? “

Daryl can’t help but feel put on the spot as your sight bores into him with a forceful amount of strength, scrutinising him with the need to find an answer he’s not yet sure of.

“ yes, it does. “

“ was y’serious about.. bein’ in love.. ? “ with me is the silent end to the sentence that lays peacefully on his tongue as he leaves it out, the invisible presence of it painfully clear to the both of you, knowing that while it wasn’t included, it was there regardless.

“ when it comes to things like this, I don’t lie. “ you rest your head on your chin, a small yet anxious smile fighting to break free onto your features.

Why do I have to be a nervous smiler?

Daryl doesn’t answer, instead he moves to sit beside you on the porch. Closer than ever before, it’s not something that goes unnoticed by either of you, and like that hope is once again reignited within your core. Even small steps like this are significant, physical affection with other people is still something that has not changed all that much with him.. Though, you’ve seen moments on rare occasions, witnessing it before he can even stop himself.

“ so, we boyfriend and girlfriend now? “ you joke, laughter allowing the grief to peel away from your heart, allowing it to flutter in the air at the thought of the potential between you.

“ shut up. “ mumbles Daryl, although there’s a small grin that is peaking through his expression as he allows it to be set free, even though the full picture is still hidden under the grime and the hair that has long since overgrown.

But, you find you wouldn’t change a thing about that. It being part of his charm. You can’t help but find yourself full to the brim of excitement of what can grow between you, with the possibilities endless.. no matter how hard things can and will get, you will have each other in a new way that you’ve never before and that? It’s a heavenly picture you want to cut and pocket away in the confines of your heart.

[mypoisonedvine]

Cake By The Ocean | frat!Chris Evans x reader

summary: fraboy au.  college parties.  beach shenanigans.  blame @ballyhoobarnes​

warnings: fingering, mention of oral sex (m receiving), overstimulation, verryyy light dub con if you squint??

shitty moodboard provided by me c:

Chris was the worst thing about mixers, hands down.

Honestly, you hated everything about mixers.  Your sisters were at their most annoying, magically transforming from educated, classy women into the most desperate of ‘pick me’ girls, clinging onto any Zeta guy they could get their hands on.  What bothered you wasn’t that they flirted with the guys, it was that they dumbed themselves down to do so.  That plus an overcrowded house, shitty drinks from plastic cups, and having to clean up everybody’s mess the next day, and you really just did not want to go to another co-ed event.

But Katie M. and Katie B., the sorority president and vice president respectively, decreed in their all-knowing power that every soror must attend five night-time events a year and you had procrastinated so hard that you had to attend every single one in May to avoid getting kicked out.  The scholarships were too good to lose. 

That didn’t mean you had to mingle, though; you were happy to hide in a secluded corner and look like you were doing something important.  In this case, it was stacking and unstacking cups.  Hopefully nobody watched you long enough to notice that you weren’t actually helping set up the drink table.

But of course, he had to show up.  He had this instinct where he could sense you minding your own business and enjoying your life, and he just had to appear and annoy you.

“Hey,” Chris’ voice wafted to your ear from behind you.  You felt his hand slip onto your waist loosely.  That was all he had to say to you?  ‘Hey’?

You ignored him, mainly because you had absolutely no idea what to say.

“Bein’ cold isn’t gonna keep me away,” he informed you, leaning in closer.

“Do you have any other suggestions then?” you frowned.

His mouth was so close to your ear now that you could smell the booze on his breath.  “Been thinkin’ about you.  I know you’ve been avoiding me.  But it hasn’t made me forget.”

“Me either, sadly,” you groaned.

“I know you get wet when you think about it,” he purred.  “I betcha think about it at night, remembering how good it felt to just let go--”

You spun around and pushed him back.  “Chris, everybody makes mistakes.  Like when the Nazis invaded Russia in the winter.  Or when your mom decided to keep it after your dad put on the condom wrong.  Or, worst of all, when we got drunk and had sex over half a year ago.  It’s okay!  Accidents happen.  But it’s best to leave them--” you rested your hand on his shoulder, giving your best comforting-but-stern look-- “in the past.”

“The best mistakes are made at least twice,” Chris grinned.  “How do you think I ended up with a little sister?”

In spite of your desperate attempt not to, you cracked a smile.  At least he could take a joke.

“Go enjoy the party,” you suggested, “talk to any of the other girls-- I bet a lot of them will find your offer more appealing.”

“I don’t wanna talk to them,” he frowned, “I wanna talk to you.  You’re interesting.”

“And they’re not?”

“I would never diss your sisters,” he raised his arms, “but you’re definitely my favorite Delta.”

“You have strange taste,” you shuddered.

“That I do,” he nodded wistfully, “that I do.”

~

You were cooped up in your room, surrounded by open text books and uncapped highlighters.  A final on Monday meant you needed to prepare all weekend.  You didn’t even look up when you heard a knock on your door; you just called out that it was open so they could come in.

“Good news!” Katie B. beamed as she popped her head around the door.  “Zeta invited us to a beach party tomorrow!”

“Why do you think that’s good news for me?” you wondered, furrowing your brow in confusion.

“Uh, because away events count for two night-time events in your attendance calendar?”

Ehh, you didn’t need to study all weekend, right?

~

Hoping to get your boost on your attendance record but disinterested in actually participating in any meaningful way, you decided you were going to tan, mainly because it utilized two of your greatest talents: laying down, and doing nothing.  After a hefty layer of sunscreen was applied to whatever your bikini didn’t cover, you settled in on the little rubbery chair with your over-sized sunglasses and some bluetooth earbuds to jam with.

The sun warmed your skin until you felt so relaxed that you honestly considered falling asleep.  Thankfully your earbuds blocked out the sounds of Zeta-Delta partying down the beach, even when the volleyball game got a little rowdy.  

Sadly, you were pulled from your relaxed state when a shadow blocked your sun, and you hesitantly opened your eyes behind the dark plastic of your shades.  Squinting, you saw his tattoo first, and you knew it was Chris come to taunt you.

“You’re blockin’ my rays, Evans,” you frowned.  

He spun the volleyball in his hands, smirking playfully.  ���I came over here to ask if you wanted to play.  It’s shirts vs skins.”

“Let me guess, you always play skins?” you quipped, quickly scanning his muscled torso which was so cruelly exposed.  Did he have to look so good?  Did it have to remind you of the way those muscles flexed as he was thrusting--

“Unfortunately for me, I bet you always play shirts,” he chuckled, interrupting your train of thought just in time.  “If no volleyball, how about a swim?”

You pulled out your other earbud and put them back in their case, realizing he wasn’t going away any time soon.  “Chris, tell me, what is it that makes you think I want to be anywhere near you?  Seriously, tell me, so I can stop doing it.”

“Sure, right now you’re acting pretty icy,” he explained, kneeling down in the sand beside your chair, “but I remember when you couldn’t keep your hands off me… when you got on your knees for me…”

You wanted to interrupt him but your throat was suddenly too dry, and your thighs were clenching together.

“When you begged me not to stop…” he continued, leaning closer, his hand grabbing your knee suddenly, slowly trailing up your thigh.

“Chris,” you whispered, just under your breath-- but it turned into a gasp when his arms wrapped around you and he picked you up.  “Put me down!” you yelped.

“I think you need to cool off, babe,” he grinned.  “A little water might do the trick, huh?”

Your screams of protest were lost to the wind as he started running, effortlessly carrying you to the water’s edge.

Soon, he was knee-deep and you were pulling yourself up into him as you tried to avoid the water.  “I swear to god if you drop me,” you began.

“I won’t, okay?” he assured, slowly calming down as you let your legs hesitantly reach past the water’s surface.  It was cold at first, but then it was relaxing against your heated skin.

As he set you down in the water, his arms naturally slid to your waist, and yours to his shoulders.  And then you were looking up at him and it felt way too right.

“Um, the… the water feels great,” you mumbled.

“Yeah,” he agreed in a low, husky voice, “yeah, feels amazing.”

Those words in that voice brought back some specific memories.  

He was so much taller than you that when you were doggy-paddling to stay afloat, he could still walk somewhat normally.  But you didn’t expect him to walk behind you, or wrap his arms over your torso.

“Chris?” you gasped a bit.

“Shh,” he soothed, placing a soft kiss to your ear, then your neck, “you don’t want anyone to hear you.  Then they might look over and realize what we’re doing.”

His hand moved lower, over your stomach and finally to the top of your bikini bottoms.  You shivered, biting your lip as you tried to process everything that was happening.

“Tell me you want it,” he requested, his voice making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.  “I know you do but, I need to hear you say it.”

“I want it,” you whimpered, “please.  Touch me.”

You felt his smile against your neck as he slipped his fingers under the fabric, instantly finding and teasing your clit.  Your hips bucked a little, disturbing the water around you.  He rubbed it so softly that you would’ve thought you wouldn’t be able to feel it at all, and yet somehow it was making your entire body jolt with pleasure.  

“Calm down baby,” he chuckled, “don’t act strange or somebody will see.  And we all know how much you want everyone to know that you want nothing to do with me.”

You whimpered a little, but realized that a small group of Deltas was about to walk by in the water.

“Act natural,” Chris instructed softly, knowing that the water would obscure what you were doing, but you’d forgotten what natural even meant.

“Hey guys,” Parvati smiled, and Gia waved at the two of you.

“Hello ladies,” Chris greeted back with a nod of acknowledgement; you sheepishly smiled and waved, trying to ignore the way Chris’ fingers were moving against you.

You figured they would question why you were sitting on Chris’ lap in the water, but they were oddly accepting of it.  Maybe they were just wondering what took you two so long.

The second the girls were out of earshot, swimming further into the water, Chris started moving his fingers even faster.  

“You’re such a dirty girl,” he chuckled darkly, “getting fingered in front of your friends.”

“Wasn’t my idea,” you defended.

“I distinctly remember you begging for it,” he teased, quickly pulling you a little lower into the water so he could grope your breast.  He reached under the triangle of your bikini to get a better feel of it, tweaking the nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Fuck, Chris,” you moaned softly.

“Feels good?”

“Yes,” you sighed, “so good, fuck…”

You instinctively tried to push his hand away as your orgasm approached-- it was too much, too strong, and you weren’t sure you could take it.  He’d learned to keep going anyways, otherwise you’d never get off.  And damn if you didn’t secretly love the way that he was too strong to push away.

“Go ahead,” he purred, “let go.  Come for me, babygirl.”

You bit down on your lip as the pleasure reached its peak and crashed, your body spasming as he held you close with his free arm.  “Chris, I’m coming,” you whimpered.

“I know baby, I know,” he groaned, “keep going.”

With his fingers still rubbing firm and fast on your clit, you honestly thought you could scream.  Instead, you grabbed his arm like your life depended on it, your head falling back onto his shoulder.

“Stop, stopstopstop,” you pleaded for mercy, and he granted it as his hand slipped from your bikini bottoms.  “God, you wear me out,” you sighed with exhaustion.

“That’s the goal,” he smiled.  

You moved your hips back only to feel the hard shape of his cock pressing into your thigh; you grinned.

“Well, I should probably leave you to your volleyballing,” you announced, standing up and starting to walk away.

“Wh-- I can’t play like this!” he protested, noticeably staying crouched in the water-- you knew that with what he was packing, he had no chance of hiding his boner in those tight swim trunks.  Plus, when they were wet, they would probably cling to it so tight that little would be left to the imagination… why were you salivating all of a sudden?

“Just act natural!” you encouraged him as you continued to walk towards the shore.

[chaoticevilbean]

Voltron Humans are Weird 3/?

Lance tugged at the suit he wore, hating it with every fiber of his being. Ever since the Alteans found out humans are mostly water, they insisted that the Paladins wear special suits that covered from their necks to their ankles to avoid a catastrophe. Allura and Shiro were to explain the situation, and arrangements would be made to let the Paladins wear normal clothes if possible. They'd been lucky so far that no one had died from something like a handshake. But the suits were skintight to avoid any water escaping too early, and Lance hated it.

It was sunny as well, so Lance desperately wanted to be free from the fabric that regulated his temperature. It made him feel constantly at a neutral point, and he just wanted to feel the blaze of heat from sunlight and bask in the warm glow. It took nearly half an hour to even get past the pleasantries and another two hours to get the arrangements set up. The humans were escorted to an open pavilion, like a gazebo, where there were several pitchers of water for the Terrans to drink, and every diplomat that came with had full-covering clothing to protect their skin. The Paladins were given a place to change, and Allura made the mistake of saying that they could wear whatever they wanted seeing as they worked so hard protecting the universe that the diplomats did all the safety work.

It wasn't a mistake to Lance, but it was to the aliens.

Lance forwent the shirt and jacket, instead putting them with his suit. He was glad he had managed to find some old Altean clothing and make shorts out of a pair of blue pants. He slipped the shorts on and sprinted back to the gazebo to find his fellow Paladins in much different attire. That is to say that they were wearing their normal clothing and Hunk was the only one to not wear the full outfit. All he'd done was take off the vest.

"Lance, what are you wearing?" Allura seemed perturbed by his lack of covering, but the Cuban ignored her, instead finally leaving the shade and flopping down on the purple space grass. It was softer than regular grass, like silk or one of those really soft blankets.  The teen hummed at the feeling of sun warming his body, soaking up every ray like a lizard.

His peace was interrupted by the screams of the diplomats and Allura. He wondered why until a guard ran forward with some sort of umbrella that held a shield all the way around the being's body. None of the aliens had been in the sun. Coran had mentioned in the briefing that the sun was out for only about a quarter of their year, meaning they had no natural adaption for the heat and radiation. The guard had almost reached Lance when the Paladin launched to his feet and took off running away from the shade. He was a Cuban boy, and he loved the sun. Humans were already terrifying, what was one more thing like this. It wasn't even that weird considering the solar cycles of Earth.

As Lance was being chased down by now several severely concerned and mildly fearful guards with umbrella shields, Pidge managed to get the diplomats to calm down by saying she was a scientist and could explain it all. Although some looked stunned that she said she was a scientist. Maybe they had social castes or something? They wouldn't understand being both a warrior and a scholar. Research for another time.

"How is the Blue Paladin handling the heat? Not even the adaptive nature of the Alteans can adjust from the shade to the scorching temperature."

"Earth has several climates. Lance is from one that is more hot and that's why his skin is darker as well. He can handle the heat just fine because he grew up with a similar temperature. Next question."

"How can he also handle the cold of the shade then? Even if he could withstand it temporarily, he should be stiff from the lower temperature, and he spent over two vargas in it."

"Humans can handle temperatures ranging from -40 to 50 degrees Celsius, which Allura can calculate better for you. We prefer the 0 to 30 degree range, and many humans can live in most climates on Earth. There aren't many places that aren't inhabited at this point, and part of that is due to our ability to adapt to new environments with relative ease. Next."

"How many climates?"

"Hundreds, next."

"What are the worst? To give us a better view of your extremes."

"Some places have active volcanos, so we have to be careful of the molten rock they spew. We have tectonic plates, which cause earthquakes and can bring down entire cities. Our Poles are extremely cold, under -60 degrees at least. Next."

"Some of you live near active volcanoes?"

"Yeah, and we swim in the nearby groundwater because it has good minerals for us. Next."

"Your planet has earthquakes? And they can level entire cities?"

"Yeah, but that's our fault. We built them on fault lines. Next."

"Did you learn your lesson?"

"Yeah, when the buildings fell down, we built them back up better than ever. Next."

"You rebuilt the cities in the same spots?"

"Yes, next."

"How did you find out your Poles were so cold? From what our scientists know of Terra, it's rather undeveloped comparatively."

"We sent people. Before you ask, yes, the first few groups died, and yes, we sent more with only slightly better equipment. Humans are curious about our world, and we'll do a lot to discover more. Next."

"Why is the Blue Paladin refusing the shade if he can handle the cold?"

"We live on the Castle, and only get a simulated version of sunlight. It's not often that we get to relax a bit and enjoy our surroundings. Lance misses the sun and its heat, so he doesn't want the shade. He wants to sunbathe, like a snake or a cat or something. Call the guards off and you'll see." The diplomats, somehow managing their fear of and for the humans and their planet, did just that.

"Lance, you're free to tan!" Hunk shouted over. Lance, trusting his bro, skidded to a halt, then let himself fall backwards. He wasn't too far from the group in the gazebo, having had to run circles around the guards. Hopefully Allura didn't notice that the guards were rather undertrained. They could barely maintain the chase! And they couldn't turn very well.

The diplomats and Allura watched with fascination as the Terran boy simply laid on the grass, eyes closed and letting the sun shine directly on him.

"Feeling better, buddy?"

"Mi hermano, we better get these allies! I'm not giving up this chance!" Hunk laughed, especially when Shiro received questions as to what Lance meant.

"He's saying he's glad you have sunlight and it's another reason that we should be allies. Mostly a joke."

"But why?"

Lance paid the conversations no mind. He only moved when Hunk yelled, "Turn!" at him. It was something they came up with so Lance never got close to burning. He would flip over whenever the call went out. The Cuban laid through the entire peace talk and treaty signing and whatnot, and groaned in displeasure when he was told it was time to go.

He was up on his feet in a second once Pidge said she'd taken some time while waiting for Allura and Shiro to finish up calculating how to fix the fake sunlight that gave them Vitamin D on the Castle. More sun, whenever he wanted, and it wasn't the weak sauce of the giant Altean ship? Yes please!

Feeling much better than before, Lance ran over to the group, refusing the shirt Hunk tried to give him. It was a halfhearted attempt, given that the Samoan knew his bro wouldn't want it in the first place. The team of Terrans headed back to the Castle, this time taking the sunny route. The diplomats and Allura remained in the shade, discussing some less political topics. One in particular came up.

"Is there any way to obtain more information about Terrans? We would never have known that the Paladins were so adaptable and biologically dangerous if you and the Green Paladin had not told us."

"Actually," Allura smiled warmly, "my advisor and I are compiling a log. 'A Guide to Humans', we titled it. I can give you viewing access, although, I must warn you. Almost all of our information is in the preliminary stage. We know next to nothing about humans and their planet, and we may find that some of the data is false. An example that recently happened was that we found Terrans have strong tolerances to quite a few poisons. But we had to update the log a second time after investigating further and discovering that only some of them have strong tolerances. Most have mild tolerances, but only a few can handle some toxins in larger amounts."

"Which poisons?"

"I believe it would be better if I simply sent you the log."

A varga later, Allura and Coran were adding a few new sections to their guide.

Due to the many different climates that somehow coexist on Earth, humans have a large range of temperatures they can tolerate, along with having the ability to adapt to a new temperature very quickly. On the Terran scale labeled 'Celsius', humans can handle temperatures from -40 to 50 degrees, with their comfortable range being about 0 to 30 degrees. Some humans prefer warmer temperatures and some prefer colder, depending on where they were raised.

To elaborate on the different climates Earth sustains, there are a few extremes that should be made known. Some populaces live near active volcanos, occasionally submerging themselves in the dihydrogen monoxide found nearby the deadly formations. They claim to do it for the beneficial properties found in the substance. Another climate is the freezing cold of Earth's poles. They are, at their warmest temperatures, 0 degrees or less. Humans, with their still young technological advancements, deemed their curiosity of the poles a worthy cause to send groups of their own people to the frozen locations. After the deaths of their initial teams, they sent more.

Earth also has tectonic plates, and earthquakes are common enough that Terrans often pass off the tremors as normal. Some cities are built on fault lines, and are damaged by larger quakes. Humans, instead of doing what most races would and relocating, rebuild their cities in the same places with better foundations.

Be receptive to suggestions a human may give about how to handle a new climate. They likely have a good knowledge of how to withstand different temperatures and how to handle the unfamiliar conditions. If a human requests specific equipment for the trip, it would be best to supply. Most Terrans will never risk the safety of themselves and others to extort the goodwill of another being. The younger a Terran is, the less likely they are to be greedy in those situations, unless the Terran is not fully matured, in which case they will not understand the circumstances well.

[krinsbez]

The DC Identity-Swap AU: A World/Storybuilding Fanfic Project (that needs a better name)

What follows is what has been come up with for a DC Universe where many heroes and villains ended up with different identities, initially conceived of by comradepitrovsky and expanded on by me and others.

In some cases, the said heroes ended up with different supporting cast members, in others not.

Let us begin, with the founding members of the Justice League: -Superwoman: Diana Kent, the Last Daughter of Paradise. For…reasons, Themyiskara had to go to another dimension, but baby Diana couldn’t come, so at Hippolyta’s request, the Olympians sent her to a Patriarch’s World couple who would raise her right, namely Jonathan and Martha. She’s dating Lois Lane and her archenemy is Lex Luthor, with whom, I want to be clear, there is ZERO Foe Yay, because she’s disgusted by him, and he’s intimidated by her. -Green Lantern: Kal-El of Krypton, who the Guardians appointed to lead the Corps through the transition to running itself. Came to Earth because he needed a break, stuck around because sweet RAO this planet needs help. He managed to keep Sinestro from going off the deep end, so he’s part of the Council Kal set-up to help him run the Corps, along with Kilowog, Mogo, Abin Sure and…not sure. -Zatara: Bruce Wayne. After his parent’s deaths, Bruce was adopted by their close friend John Zatara, who realized the kid was tied to the demon Barbatos, and they figgered out a way for him to use that power for good. -Captain Marvel: Barry Allen, while studying Forensic Science in college, took some classes, and became friends, with Archeology Student C. C. Batson (there is considerable overlap between the two fields, right?). When Batson and his wife were murdered during a dig in Egypt, Barry offered to help with the investigation, and ended up becoming SHAZAM’s champion. -The Flash: Hal Jordan, test pilot for Ferris Aircraft, was struck by lightning whilst flying their latest prototype, and ended up tied to the Speed Force. (Note, like Johnny and Jessie Quick, can fly) -Hawkman and Hawkgirl: Arthur Curry and Dinah Lance. The former encountered the wreck of a Thanagarian spaceship whilst exploring underwater and ended up with the soul of Prince Khufu. Dinah was hanging around her Uncle Carter's place and had something similar happen with the soul of Chay-Ara. -Martian Manhunter. J'onn is exactly the same. Other thoughts, somewhat random, in no particular order: -Ollie was zeta beam'd from The Island to Rann instead of Adam Strange. -Adam is instead Metamorpho. -Eel managed to drag himself to Slaughter Swamp before succumbing to his wounds and so ended up becoming Swamp Thing. -Owing to…complicated feelings WRT to her adopted brother, Zatanna ended up hanging around with her dad’s colleague Thaddeus Brown, and took up his mantle instead, becoming Madame Miracle, Magical Escape Artist! -T. O. Morrow built Red Torpedo first, she got possessed by a water elemental somehow, rebelled against his programming, and ended up traveling to Atlantis, overthrew the tyrant Orm, was acclaimed Queen, married Mera, and now fights crime on the surface as Aquawoman. (I’m gonna say she sometimes wears a human disguise that looks Aquawoman-11, because I fancy her and will use almost any excuse to get her into one of these things) -Ray Palmer and Ralph Dibny became Firestorm. -Instead of becoming Cheetah, Barbara-Ann seized the power of Teth-Adam and became Captain Marvel’s archenemy. -Pam became the Cheetah instead, and is an enemy of The Flash, with no small amount of Foe Yay. -In addition to that, Hal is also in a Love Triangle with Carol and Lady Blackhawk, who came to work for Ferris after arriving in the 21st Century due to time travel shenanigans. Arguably a Love Quadrangle, since he's competing with his alter ego. -Selina and Helena are both Star Sapphires and both of them are pursuing Kal-El, who is receptive to both. -Barry is still with Linda, Wally is Capt. Marvel, Jr. -The Batson Twins became Superboy and Supergirl, but I haven't come up with specifics. Help please? -Bruce adopted Raven and Garth. Suggestions for codenames? -In an effort to gain the power to defeat Superwoman, Lex made a deal with Ares, confident that he could handle the God of War. He is now possessed by Ares, but has no idea, assuming that the ideas Ares puts in his head are entirely his own, because he’s too arrogant to believe anyone else can control or manipulate him. It helps that Ares largely approves of Lex’s ideas and doesn’t need to do much. As a side-eeffect, Lex’s power armor has a distinctly Ares-y feel to it. -Klarion is in Bruce’s Rogue’s Gallery. Said Rogue's Gallery also includes the Sivana family. Which means that yes, Bruce is dating Beautia. -Bruce's archnemesis is the man who in the normal reality became Black Manta, who I've always headcanoned as choosing to torment Arthur purely by random chance, and obviously picked differently here. Since there's no need for a nautical theme, he uses a different codename; Black Bat. -The first thing Kal-El did after completing training was rescue Kandor. Brainiac swore vengeance, and upon escaping from the Sciencells, discovered how to harness the Yellow Light of Fear. In addition to using it himself, he also unleashed a number of Phantom Zone criminals, took over their minds, and equipped his enslaved army with Yellow Rings.

-The Olympians left Diana some magic thingummy that allowed her to be trained in Amazon combat techniques, etc. in her dreams or something, because she needs something to make up for the lack of super-senses, but if she has the Lasso, I'm not sure how Lex can be a problem for her?

-Dick was adopted by the Dibnys, got himself the Gingold Extract, and fights crime as Firestorm’s sidekick, Elastic Lad.

-Mister Mind is one of Diana’s Rogues.

-Dr. Psycho is in Hal's Rogue's Gallery. Presumably, wossname the guy who framed him so he could steal his fiancee Mavra didn't do quite as good a job gaslighting her, she found out the truth, and he murdered her to cover it up. He is therefore unable to blame her for the plot in a feeble and cowardly attempt to save himself when Psycho comes after him. This leads to misogyny being a less prominent aspect of Psycho's particular psychosis, with his primary targets instead being "Alpha Male"-types like the man who ruined his life. And hey, here's Hal Jordan....

-Gen. Eiling as Reverse-Flash, Y/N? -Thawne become Sabbac, Y/N? -I think I'm gonna say Pam still has her canon powerset in addition to being the Cheetah. -Since one of the best things about Hal is how he hates being told what to do, but is most comfortable in jobs where he's in a disciplined hierarchy...Zinda recruits him to create a new version of the Blackhawks. Not sure who else is in it; I can think of a bunch of ace pilots in the DCu, but they’re all American, and the Blackhawks should be an international operation. Possibility; the same temporal shenaniganry that dropped Zinda in the modern-day also spat-out Hans Von Hammer, the Enemy Ace. -I'm adding Captain Nazi to Hal's Rogue's Gallery. Since Hal is Ambiguously Jewish, his sidekick is Inuit, and in this 'verse he's part of a team that's a legacy of an group founded to fight the Nazis, I feel like it works. Also, Hal's other villains thus far are a bisexual woman, a dwarf, and a US Air Force General, people who are naturally inclined to have beef with him and vice versa. -Abra-Kadabra being one of Bruce's villains, Y/N?

-Circe is one of Bruce’s Rogues and they have UST.

@videodromeda

[deanandthephantoms]

Perfect Harmony Pt.1 - Reader x Charlie

Soo.. This is my first attempt at writing a story. This story is, in a very short summary gonna be about how the reader and Charlie Gillespie met, became best friends, drifted apart, and found each other again. Thank you @happinessinthedarkesttimes for giving me the idea to write this. I hope you’ll enjoy! This is chapter one of.. who knows how many, it might become a long one. Oh and all feedback is welcome :). You can read chapter 2 here and chapter 3 here !

Start of something new

When Y/N was 16 years old her mom thought it was a good idea to send her to a summer camp for teenagers to young adults. Now that may sounds like a fun thing, but Y/N was always very shy and very insecure at first, I guess that’s what 10 long years of being bullied on the regular does to a person.. As you can imagine going out and meeting a insanely large group of new people was a pretty terrifying thing to her. So when she was on her way in a bus to the summer camp surrounded by other camp-goers she was in full panic mode thinking things like; WHAT AM I DOING? I DON’T WANT TO GO! WHAT IF THEY’RE ALL GONNA BE MEAN TO ME?! there however was no turning back now.. Luckily it was only a week, she would survive.. Right?

When the bus arrived at her home for the coming week y/n was overwhelmed by the amount of people that were already there.  Luckily a camp staff member came up to her soon enough and told her she was placed into a smaller group with 8 other people from around her age. Still scary but focusing on meeting 8 new people sure was a lot less scary than having to meet at least 100 people all at once. The counselor also showed Y/N where her room for the week was.

When Y/N stepped into her bedroom for the week she saw 3 pairs of eyes looking at her. One of the girls jumped up from her bed and said; “Hey! I don’t think we’ve met yet? I’m Madison! That’s Savannah” she said while pointing towards the blonde girl sitting on one of the beds, Savannah gave you a smile and a small wave. “And that’s Jadah” she said while gesturing towards the girl making her bed. “hi!” Jadah said with a big smile. I took Madison’s held out hand and shook it. “Hey nice to meet you all.” You smiled shyly. “You’re right it’s my first time here so I haven’t really met anyone yet.. My name is Y/N by the way.” “ Nice to meet you too Y/N!”Madison said. “So since you’re sleeping in our room I bet that means you’re also in our group, right?” “Oh.. eh.. I’m not sure..?” “I replied. Is that usually how this works? Have you 3 been here before?” I asked while claiming my bed for the week. “Yeah!” They all said at the same time, sounding very excited. This time it was Savannah who continued to speak; “I’ve been coming here every summer since I was 13. That was also the year I met Madison and Jadah and the rest of our group, who you will meet soon enough. We actually have become really close friends over the years so we keep coming back here to see each other. You’re gonna love our group!” I smiled at her excitement. “I sure hope so.” “So.. Jadah began, how did you end up coming here?” “Honestly? I said, my mom thought it would be a brilliant idea to send me here, to meet some new people..” “You don’t sound very excited about it”Jadah noticed. “You picked up on that huh? You’re right..” I quickly explained to the girls that I’m very shy and insecure at first which makes meeting new people a hard and scary thing. They all nodded understandingly. “Hey, Madison said, we got you okay? no need to feel scared or anything.” The 3 girls smiled at me and for some reason I felt they meant it. “Thank you I said, that really does mean a lot. So.. while we’re on the topic of meeting new people, when will we be meeting the rest of our group?” I asked nervously. “In 30 minutes or so Madison replied, our first group activity starts at 3pm”.  “Group activity?” I asked with a nervous look on my face. Savannah laughed,”don’t worry they call it a activity but it’s basically just some time to meet everyone in your group and the leaders of your group.”  “oh, that doesn’t sound tooo bad” I replied, still feeling very nervous but at least I had those 3 girls who genuinely seemed nice.

3pm came sooner than I wanted and before I knew it Jadah was dragging me along to my first group activity. When we got there the rest of our group and our two older leaders we’re already there. Jadah sat me down next to this boy with brown hair and hazel eyes the boy greeted Jadah and gave me a smile. I soon would learn that his name was Charlie. He came to camp with two of his friends, Owen and Jeremy who were also in our group. Then there was this boy called Taylor and another girl called Tori and last but not least our leaders, a man called Ray, who seemed super chill and laid back and a woman named Rose who seemed to be the sweetest person. During that first time meeting everyone I actually started to feel more comfortable, they all seemed pretty nice. Maybe this week wouldn’t be so bad after all.. Soon after meeting your group it was time for dinner with the entire camp. Madison gestured for you to come sit with her, an invitation you happily accepted you had met enough new people for the day. During the dinner the head camp counselors asked for everybody’s attention. They introduced themselves to us and told us some crazy story about how we were gonna play ‘glow in the dark paintball’. Madison laughed at my confused face. “I hate to break the fun but this all just means we’re having a dropping later tonight. they try this every year. They try to prepare us for an intense, active night without actually saying they’re dropping us in the middle of nowhere.” She whispered to me. “Oohhh” I simply replied, actually feeling a bit disappointed.

-Later that night y/n found out Madison was right, the group and their two leaders got dropped in the middle of nowhere and as we speak were trying to find their way back “home”.- 

I found myself walking next to Charlie, he was chatting away about all kinds of things I learned all about his family and about his girlfriend who apparently was a staff member on this camp and he promised me, he would introduce me to her. I had to admit, I had the worst experience with boys I had kind of decided that I hated all of them, but this Charlie dude was very easy to talk to, he has this energy that just makes you feel at ease and the other boys seem very nice too.. Charlie ripped me away from my own thoughts, “Sooo Y/N what kind of music do you like? Please tell me you like music..” I couldn’t help but laugh, “If I like music? nah”. I left a short silence before continuing;  “I love music!” even though it was dark I could tell he smiled at that answer. “What kind of music is a hard question though. I literally listen to all kinds of things from rock to silly boybands.. I enjoy it all.” It was that moment a song of  the band Linkin park popped into my head and I softly started singing it “When my time comes Forget the wrong that I've done. Help me leave behind some reasons to be missed.” Realizing what I was doing I quickly shut up again. “Y/N, were you just singing a Linkin park song?” Charlie asked me. “Yeah..” I replied half ashamed, “they’re one of my favorite bands actually.” I said. “NO WAY!”He replied all excited. “I love them too!” And without any warning he continued singing the song I started singing. – this boy can sinnnng I thought to myself before joining him and singing along, it only took Owen, Jeremy and Taylor 5 seconds to join us and before I knew it we were walking through the woods at night just singing apparently this entire group really loved music and i was not complaining. After a good while of singing all kinds of songs we quieted down and just had many conversations about everything. And after a few hours of being lost we found our way back. Me and the girls wished the boys a goodnight which apparently goes along with a lot of hugs, this is where I learned Charlie gives the best hugs. They’re some of the tightest hugs I’ve ever had, but at the same time the most comfortable and save feeling ones as well.. I went to sleep as a happy girl that night, so glad all of those people were so nice to me I actually may have found myself some new good friends here.

When I stepped out of my room the next morning I saw Charlie talking to a girl. “Y/N!” He motioned for me to come over, so I did. “Morning Charlie” I said. “Good morning” he replied ,sounding a lot more alive than I felt. “I promised you I would introduce you to my girlfriend didn’t i? So Y/N this is Emma. Emma meet Y/N it’s her first time here and she’s part of our group now!” “Ohh,” Emma replied. “It’s so nice to meet you! I hope you’ll have a lovely time here” she smiled at me. “It’s nice to meet you too, Charlie has told me quite a bit about you” I told her with a smile. “Only good things I hope”, she said more to the boy than to me. “Anyway breakfast is about to start so I should go and meet my fellow staff members”. She gave Charlie a quick kiss and gave us a ‘I’ll see you soon’ before running off. “So that was Emma, she seems nice” I told Charlie. Charlie smiled, “She is! She came into my life when I was feeling very low. In some way she really saved me you know.” “Well I’m glad she did” I told him. I couldn’t imagine this happy, social, excited boy being depressed.. this Emma girl sure did something right.  “Yeah me too” Charlie replied, “should we go get some breakfast?” And before I could even say anything Charlie was already on his way.

The rest of the day was filled with playing games with our group against other groups. Not gonna lie, we were the worst we lost every single game but boy did we have fun. We were cheering each other on, Tori thought us some cheerleader dance, we were laughing at our own failure and singing random songs trough out the day. After dinner there was this thing called “Family time” which i learned, basically meant getting together with your own small group and talking about a more serious topic. Ray and Rose , our older leaders, were talking to us about believing in yourself and knowing that you’re good enough just the way you are. And while the others were saying things here and there, I was quiet. Veeery quiet. I never really believed in myself, all I had been hearing for 10 years is how ugly I was, how I failed at a most things, people laughed at me when I did something wrong, boys told me I didn’t deserve to be loved.. and i could go on..  I did not like myself at all and I sure didn’t think I was good enough for anything or anyone. Rose ended our night by reading us a little poem she wrote about how loved we were. As soon as we were allowed to go I walked off quickly I felt the tears burning in my eyes. I couldn’t cry, not in front of my new friends.. So I sat down in a somewhat hidden spot and just silently cried with my head in my hands.

After a minute or so I felt someone sit down beside me and putting an arm around my shoulder pulling me a little closer. Then I heard a voice ask me “Y/N are you okay? What’s wrong?” It was Charlie genuinely sounding concerned, he slowly rubbed my back trying to calm me down. This entire thing he did was new to me, I wasn’t used to people noticing something was wrong or asking me if I was doing okay and I was definitely not used to a boy comforting me. I-I , I began but the sobs made it impossible to speak. Charlie pulled me into a hug and kept telling me it was okay. After a few minutes of sobbing into his shirt I calmed down a bit and Charlie let go of me. I smiled at him with a tear stained face, “thank you for that and sorry about your shirt..” “don’t worry about it”he replied “Now do you wanna tell me what was wrong?” “ I uhh.. I guess I’m not really used to people telling me I’m loved or people telling me I’m good enough. I’m actually more used to the opposite of that.. so hearing those things just really overwhelmed me and apparently broke me..”I could see in Charlie’s face that he felt bad for me. “I’m so sorry”he said, “you’re such a cool person Y/N! We all happen to think that so you better believe it.” “Stop!” I said slapping his arm playfully “or you’ll make me cry all over again.” He laughed, “I’m sorry. But it’s true.” Not really knowing how to deal with that compliment I just smiled at him. Charlie continued ;” hey listen, if you.. you know ever need someone to talk to. I’m here okay?” “Thanks Charlie, that means a lot.” Charlie smiled at me and got up from the ground holding his hand out for me, “Come on. We’re gonna go back to the others, they were planning on playing some boardgames tonight. Are you in?”  “Yeah I’m in,” I replied while taking his hand he pulled me up from the ground. When me and Charlie got to our friends Madison Savannah and Jadah immediately stood up and pulled me in for a hug. “Are you okay?” Madi asked. “Yeah I am now. Thanks” I replied with a smile. “So I heard we were playing games I’m in!” I said changing the subject. “Heck yeah!” Sav replied “you’re on my team Y/N! we’re playing against the boys.” “ Alright, Let’s show ‘em what we got!” I replied. And so we ended the night on a very competitive but good note.

Part 2 // Part 3